Keeping the Stars Apart
by Writless
Summary: A girl, and her terrible decision to continue traveling with the Doctor. Seriously, I should have stuck with the couch. Couches are really underrated. You know what's overrated? Time lords. And their big fat egos, and their attitude, and- Oh. Sorry, we're running again. Jesus, always with the running. Seriously, don't hang out with time lords, I cannot stress that enough. Master/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello there, this is a sequel! If you have stumbled upon this before reading my fic Starlight, you are probably going to be very confused. Or maybe not? Give it a shot and let me know, I'd be interested to hear. If you'd rather not be a reading guinea pig, please read Starlight first. And then come back. I'm happy to have you! I'm also happy to have all my returning readers! You're all lovely! Onwards!**

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"Try going to your left!" The Doctor shouted from across the room. He of course, was quite comfortable, and might I add, _very_ well protected behind a thick concrete wall. Him and his ridiculous bow tie and suspenders. And his stupid floppy hair. I was stuck behind a rather cheaply made looking table, something that made Ikea look classy. And I was slightly bitter about it, if you couldn't already tell. It was not at all reassuring. Neither was the prickly looking green guy I was hunched down next to. The Doctor had mentioned the species, at some point _before_ we were fleeing for our lives. I just couldn't be bothered to remember what it was. You know what was easy to remember? Cactus. Mainly because that's exactly what he looked like. That's what was sticking in my head just then.

I also wasn't overly upset about forgetting his species since it was _his_ damn fault we were being shot at in the first place. Well, his _and_ the Doctor's. This cactus fellow had pissed off the local authorities, something about bathing in a forbidden pool, or sacrificing virgins. Hell if I knew. He was just like us though, a visitor, a tourist. So whatever Big Brother laws that had been laid down, he had been unaware of. That was all good and well, except for the fact that the 'local authorities' were actually automated. They were drones. Oddly enough, they didn't really care about any of the excuses we had tried to make on the cactus gentleman's behalf.

So now we were running.

What really surprised me was the fact that I was still _surprised_ by this fact. After a month and a half of 'traveling' with the Doctor, a majority of it had been spent fleeing from imminent doom. The good news was that I'd probably never need to go to the gym again. The bad news is that I was constantly fleeing from _imminent doom_.

I had made some choices in my life that I was starting to regret.

"I already went left!" I shouted back. To our left was a pile of rubble. Well, it had been a wall at some point. A rather flimsy one. The sentries had proved that pretty quickly. The only thing we had going for us was the fact that they were crap shots. We were just playing a very intense version of flashlight tag. Except, errant laser beams were the flashlights. And instead of freezing until someone came to tag you back, well, you _died_. Not to worry though, I'd make a terrible corpse. But then again, I was _really _awful at tag.

In my defense, so was the Doctor. Somehow, despite that, he had some freakishly huge rabbits foot, or equally unlikely lucky charm that was helping his cause. So despite his wild arm flailing and generally useless dodging skills, he had so far survived. And he was loads closer to making it back to the TARDIS than I was, seeing how he was next to the only exit, where me and my cactus friend were on the completely opposite side of the room. The sentries blew a few holes in the wall behind us, just to remind me of how capable they were of dealing swift death. You know, in case I had forgotten. They were very thoughtful that way.

I shielded my head as dust and small pebbles rained down from above, the cactus screamed next to me. It was probably time for me to get a clover, a horseshoe, or maybe even a penny. I was ready to proclaim whatever I was currently wearing as my 'lucky' underwear if it would just get me out of this hell hole while my heart was still beating.

"Well, your _other _left then!"

"I don't _have_ another left!" I made sure to confirm that I hadn't accidentally confused to two directions before retorting. Because, at this point, the odds of my mixing up my right and left hands were unbelievably likely. After my trusty 'left hand makes the L shape' test, I knew it was the Doctor being the idiot. On top of that, I couldn't go back right, because we had just come from that direction, it was a long hallway that led us further and further away from the TARDIS, back to that stupid forbidden pool. Not a path I was planning on taking.

"If I could just get this bloody sonic to work…" I could hear the Doctor muttering in the silence that followed the last barrage of shots. He slammed it against the ground a few times, causing it to emit a few feeble whirs before going quiet again. This would be why it wasn't _entirely_ the cactus' fault we were being shot at. In an effort to save the man, the Doctor had come forward, arguing with the machines. And dropped his screwdriver into the forbidden pond. Then when he ducked down to retrieve it, he had knocked the cactus into the water. Apparently they took 'second offenses' very seriously here. This is why you shouldn't interfere in the affairs of others. It's not that I wish we had abandoned the cactus to his fate (I totally wished that) but the whole rescue thing would have been made substantially more pleasant if we weren't _all_ getting shot at.

"It's okay," the cactus spoke in a warbling voice as the pile of rubble exploded next to us. Apparently the sentries wanted to be extra thorough in killing that particular stack of rocks. Gold star for them. "Maybe if I just surrender?" I sighed, that was my second issue with getting involved with the cactus. Aside from the fact that he was getting us shot at, which, was a fairly _big_ first issue. He was also something of a wet noodle. I mean, _I_ was freaking out. _I_ was the wet noodle of the group, the panic patsy. If I was able to see how pathetic this guy was, well, that didn't bode well for him at all. "They have to accept surrender, right? Part of the programming. Has to be. They can't just _kill_ people." He nodded to himself as I turned to glare at him, wanting him to know just _how_ idiotic I thought his idea was. "That's the sensible thing to do."

"No, not really." I looked over my shoulder to where the Doctor was still hunched over, maybe if he would just do some of his classy flailing and create a distraction for us, we could at least make it to the next feeble table. It wasn't much to go on, but it was _something_. And I had the feeling if we didn't move soon, the cactus here was going to act on those crazy-

"I give up!" He shouted and I spun around. The idiot had stood up, hands up in the air rigidly. Looking, hilariously, _more_ like a saguaro.

I would have appreciated it a bit more if I wasn't busy swearing at him.

"Get back down here dumb ass!" Diving for his leg I tried to drop him to the floor, but he had already stepped out from behind the sanctuary of our table. The sentries waited a full second before opening fire. The wall behind him exploded in a mess of plaster and dust, miraculously leaving him unharmed. Which was unfortunate, because if he'd gotten shot, then I wouldn't have to try and drag him back here.

"No! No!" He shouted, his mouth hanging open as he still tried to stand straight, made more difficult by the fact that he was hunched over, his hands shrunk over his head. "I give up! Surrender!"

To my surprise, the shooting actually stopped.

"Searching…searching." One of the drones hummed in it's mechanical tone. "Command not accepted. Resume firing."

Well, it was a nice reprieve while it lasted.

"What? You can't!" He screamed, instead of using those precious seconds to get back behind cover. I wondered vaguely if cactus people also came with cactus brains. As in, none at all. I can't lie to you, well, I can. But I won't in this instance. I hesitated to help him out. Still hoping that maybe he would get shot in the leg or something, anything that might drop him out of the line of fire. Because not only was I not particularly happy with this idiot, I was also completely terrified of getting shot. And then, subsequently, _dying_. Both of those things were on my 'do not want' list. So when it came to risking my life for total strangers who were even more useless and trouble prone than myself, well. I gave it a good five seconds before I reacted.

"Fitz!"

Yeah, yeah. Alright Doctor do good.

In the cactus' defense, the whole 'forbidden pool' thing was total nonsense. There weren't even _signs_. Everyone knew you had to have warning signs before you _shot_ people. It was a rule. Somewhere. And it was just as likely that I would have made the mistake of dipping my foot into that stupid pool, so I couldn't just leave him out there. Instead, I closed my eyes and launched myself at him, hoping those spikes weren't as sharp as they looked.

Spoiler, they were. And I smacked my head against his sharp little elbow too. Cactus needed to eat. But we both did drop to the ground, mission accomplished. Though, we didn't drop behind anything that could have, you know, protected us. Instead of behind six feet of target, we were closer to six inches. That was something. It was just hard to appreciate as the lasers continued to destroy everything above our heads. I rolled off the cactus to stop from getting poked, and to get even lower, when part of the ceiling above us erupted. Some of these sentries _really_ had terrible aim. Not that I was complaining, but someone seriously overpaid.

I tried shoving the cactus back toward the table, but he just screamed as a piece of drywall fell onto his head. He was in full on 'panic and do absolutely nothing that might save his life' mode. Just what I needed.

"Most. Useless. Cactus. _Ever_!" I whacked him with a spare piece of plaster, just so he would know how incredibly annoyed at him I was.

"That's racist!" He shouted just as the floor next to his hand erupted. Ah, so they had figured out we were on the floor now. That was…unfortunate.

"Cactus!" I shouted, even as I tried to army crawl backwards. "Cactus! Cactus!" I was still shouting when I was forced to duck my head, the shots flying way too close above for comfort. Someone grabbed my ankle and yanked hard, sliding me across the slick floor and back behind another table. Right, getting _out_ of the line of fire. Probably what I _should_ have been concerned with instead of hurling possibly racists comments at the idiot who had gotten us into this mess. I could do that later. You know, if I lived.

"Having fun?" I rolled onto my back to see the Professor looking down at me rather scornfully with those piercing blue eyes of his.

"Loads," I coughed to clear the dust from my lungs. "Where the _hell_ have you been?" Safety in numbers, that should have been our advantage. But Donna had stayed in the spa, something I should have gone along with. The Professor had become rather fascinated with the largely automated planet, and had wandered off to investigate the engineering or something. The Doctor had mentioned a champagne waterfall. That sounded loads more interesting than looking at robots. Besides, I wasn't totally uncomfortable around the Professor, but nor was I interested in spending an afternoon robot browsing with him alone.

"Now, is that any way to speak to the man with the functioning screwdriver?" He held it up in his hand with his eyebrow raised as he waited for a break in the firing before he yanked the cactus man back in the same way he had dragged me.

"I almost got _shot_." I scowled, I was pretty sure one of my eyebrows was missing. Singed off. That was going to look weird. It was also making me less grateful to see the Professor than I probably should have been. "Ten bucks says I could take out the man with the functioning screwdriver and just use it myself." The cactus blubbered and shook nearby, but neither of us paid him any attention.

"Oh," he said, a smile pulling at his normally serious face. "I'd like to see you try." It was similar to the way he used to smile when he was feeling particularly dangerous. Okay then, so threatening time lords was probably on my 'to-don't' list from now on. No matter how many eyebrows I had lost. Noted.

"Am I dead? Did they kill us?" Cactus was making coherent sounds that I recognized as speech and I used that as an excuse to avoid having to keep staring down the Professor. The idiot was still clenched up in a ball, his eyes scrunched shut, oblivious to the fact that he had been pulled to safety. Well, temporary safety anyway.

"Yes, you're dead. Can I have your wallet?" I asked, irritably slapping at his leg. I thought the Professor's sinister smirk turned to something closer to amusement, but I couldn't be sure because he turned toward the sentries, popping his head above the table and firing his screwdriver three times.

Then everything, save for the whimpering of the cactus, went silent.

"What happen- Oh." The Doctor said in the muted calm, peeking out from behind his wall to see the Professor standing up. "Nice of you to join us."

"Yes. I thought so." The Professor said blandly as he strode across the room. I was satisfied with just sitting there for a bit and enjoying the feeling of _not_ being shot at. Simple girl with simple tastes. Well, relatively.

"Of course, you didn't need to _destroy_ them." The Doctor sounded a bit petulant as he joined the Professor. I wasn't going to complain about the sentries being scrap metal. In fact, I kind of preferred it that way.

"Do you really think I would spend all day studying them just to blow them up because you two couldn't bother to follow some simple rules?" The Professor scoffed.

Fine then, we weren't exploding the _homicidal_ robots. Fine. Whatever, maybe later we could make friendship bracelets and sing songs together.

"The technical details that went into these things is quite impressive. They're all actually connected to a main hub, which communicates with the ship in orbit. I mean, it's all easily replicated if you even have half a brain," so I guess that would disqualify _me_. "But still, quite elegantly done. Especially when you consider the species." It was funny how he sounded condescending even when he was trying to say something nice. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

"Yes," the Doctor didn't seem bothered, in fact, he seemed excited. "And did you see this? These fusion cells are actually self-replicating," I started to tune them out as they both started poking around the machines that were now harmless. The Professor occasionally grunted an agreement, but they were both lost in their robot _porn_. Great, I guess I should have packed a picnic.

"You're all barking mad!" The cactus was suddenly up and shouting, apparently angry about how cavalierly they were handling our would be assassins. "I'm getting out of here!" He shouted again, turning on his heel and running back the way we had arrived.

"No. Please. Come back." I watched him disappear. "You're _welcome_. Twit."

"Now, Fitz, you're never going to make any friends if you're not a bit more…polite." The Doctor chided over his shoulder.

"He was an idiot. New rule. No more saving idiots!" I decreed. Knowing my opinion would amount to almost nothing.

"I saved you," My eyebrows, or possibly, eyebrow, shot up. That had been the Professor. What was more surprising was the smirk on his face. He had been _joking_. That was strange all on its own. At least I had realized he was trying to be funny before I had stuffed my fist through his teeth.

"Yeah, but you owe me one. Actually, you owe me _two_." I replied smartly. His face shifted, concern followed by confusion. Oops, forgot that maybe he wouldn't really remember. Probably not so funny to tease him about that whole 'missing incredibly large parts of my memory' bit.

"Yes, I suppose I-"

"Oh, look at this!" The Doctor seemed even more excited, he was, of course, oblivious to our conversation. "It's a button, what do you suppose it does- Oh," A loud wailing started to shriek from the machine. I clapped my hands over my ears, wondering if it would really be too much to ask if just _one_ of these little adventures might not end with me having to take like seven aspirin when I got back to the TARDIS.

"What the _hell_ is that?" I glared in the Doctor's direction.

"That would be the tampering alarm." The Professor said, that condescending scowl back on his face.

"Oh, is that bad?" The Doctor asked, tucking the screwdriver back into his pocket with a frown.

"Well, only if you consider _more _sentries bad." The Professor muttered as he disabled the alarm.

"Not at all," the Doctor said with his bright smile. One that I sort of wanted to stomp out with my boot. "Perhaps, though. Just in case it's not exactly a _happy_ reunion, maybe you could fix my sonic…"

"It doesn't need _fixing_ Doctor, it needs airing out. Find a blow dryer."

"Maybe we should just leave. You know, before more show up? I feel like they're not going to be super excited to see us, and all their…comatose friends." As far as suggestions went, I thought it was a pretty good one.

"Yes," the Professor said absently while still fiddling with the controls. "However, it will be even better to clear their memory banks. That way we can make a less hasty exit. If you can stay out of the bloody pool." He shot the Doctor a look.

Maybe that was a good idea. I guess his afternoon spend studying robots hadn't been totally wasted. He finished whatever voodoo magic he was working on, and finally, satisfied with his work, tucked his screwdriver back into his long wool jacket. He started back in my direction, but the Doctor was still inexplicably fascinated.

"Professor, did you see this? How the surface matter-"

"Rematerializes upon impact," the Professor said with an impatient sigh. "Yes, Doctor. I did just explain to you that I've spent the day studying them."

"Yes, alright. No need to be a spoilsport." The Doctor humphed, casting him a look before returning to poking around the machine. Apparently not in any hurry to leave.

"You boys and your machines." I rolled my eyes as the Professor approached, the corner of his lips pulled up slightly. It was reassuring to see he had _some_ sense of humor, I was still feeling that part out.

"We're hardly _boys_." He said mildly.

"Sure, but the Doctor always gets all pouty when I call him an old man."

"I can _hear_ you." The Doctor said irritably, but it earned another smirk from the Professor. He offered me a hand up and I accepted it without much hesitation. Things were getting less awkward, that was nice. It was hard to focus too much on how freaked out I was supposed to be about the Professor not really being the Professor. Bullets, pissed off aliens, laser beams, and general end of the world scenarios tended to put things in perspective. Or, at least, they blurred it enough that I didn't mind.

"Down!" The Doctor's voice rang out as he shoved the Professor forward. I was tumbling backward as I watched a red laser slice through the air, snipping off one of his dark curly locks with precision. My back hit the ground hard and knocked the wind out of me. The Professor followed up with shoving his elbow deep into my gut so I couldn't even attempt at breathing again. My vision started to spin as I gasped like a fish. I was vaguely aware of the world exploding somewhere to my left. I hoped that meant the Doctor was taking care of business, hopefully this time with more destroying. Those robots had it coming, man. Everything went quiet again and I could see the Professor's face looming over my own, asking me if I was Madeleine Albright.

That was a stupid question, of course I wasn't-

Oh, _alright_. He was asking if I was alright. That made more sense. Good, because I looked _nothing_ like that lady, and frankly, was a little insulted that he had even considered- Nope. See, I'm losing focus again. He hadn't made that connection at all. Remember? That was in my head. Boy, I get real crazy when I can't breathe. Was that why the corners of my vision were starting to go dark?

"Air." I finally muttered, which was, thankfully, enough, because he shifted his weight and suddenly my lungs could fill again. Ah, blessedly wonderful air. My favorite. Well, my favorite right after 'not dying'.

"Have you got it?" The Professor's attention was on the Doctor. At least, I hoped he was talking to the Doctor, because I had no idea what he meant.

"Yes. I _got_ it." The Doctor sounded sheepish and I turned to see what he was so sorry about. Ah, one of the sentries. Or at least, what was left of one. It wasn't exactly…recognizable any more. The Professor had just shut them down, the Doctor had…well, he had _obliterated_ it. I guess I couldn't really complain, since that had been my vote originally. "I guess it sorted out the sonic as well." He shrugged as he held the steaming screwdriver away from his body.

"So you're okay?" It took me another moment to realize the Professor was speaking to me again. I turned my attention back toward him and realized, a little nervously, how _close _he was. That, and the fact that he was still, definitely, laying on me, was very distracting. And, well. Awkward. And familiar. Wow. Let's _not_ think about that, shall we? What had I been saying about things being less weird between us? That's what I get for trying to be optimistic.

The good news, was that I was pretty certain my near suffocation explained my bright red face. That, and the Professor seemed genuinely oblivious to how inappropriate it was for him to still be on top of me. Probably because he couldn't remember _why_ it should have been so inappropriate. No, calm down. It wasn't. Well, okay, it was. But not in the way you were thinking, pervert. Shut up. This was no big deal. Just an unfortunate landing. That he hadn't managed to get up from. Dear Penthouse- Stop thinking and answer god dammit!

"Just got the wind knocked out of me." I nodded as well as I could from the floor.

"Yes, well, I suppose you can thank the Doctor for that." He shot a look over his shoulder. When he turned back, he met my eyes, and finally realized the same thing that was running through my head. Welcome on board the awkward train, Professor. We're glad to have you. Then he was standing up fluidly, and pulling me along with him like a rag doll. I did my best not to act totally weird when my momentum sort of hurled me into his chest. And when I say 'did my best' I nearly leapt back from him. But I casually stared at the floor, like a boss.

"Time to go?" The Doctor asked, oblivious as ever. What was I talking about? Oblivious to what? My own imagined mortification? There was nothing _actually _going on. I was just having a bit of an overreaction was all. As I took my casual, and not at all paranoid looking step back, I realized he still had my hand gripped in his own. Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't- Shit. Though he seemed just as surprised as I was, his eyes flickering to our hands, and then back to me before releasing it with a confused frown.

"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood to run into any more of those things. _Fascinating_ as they were." I rolled my eyes, stepping away from the Professor by a good hand span. It was eerie sometimes how casual I could act. But, it wasn't really acting, was it? We were just friends, traveling buddies. It wasn't like I was trying to make him my boyfriend again. Not that he had ever _been_ my boyfriend.

Augh.

Shut. And up. Two words I _really_ needed to learn how to utilize.

"Yes, I agree. I imagine the sentries feel similarly." The Professor said smoothly. He wasn't even bothered. Of course he wasn't, ice rain through those veins of his. Ice and some kind of mind control device that made me act as weird as possible whenever he was around.

"It's not my fault!" The Doctor protested as we picked our way through the wreckage and back to the TARDIS. "My sonic was wet. It was malfunctioning. I was only trying to _disable_ it."

"I would say you did _that _rather successfully." The Professor added with a smirk and I snorted, but for the Doctor's sake, tried to cover it with a cough.

"Oh, shut up." The Doctor muttered miserably.


	2. Chapter 2

The library, my home away from home. The one place I felt completely safe in, regardless of the possible death I may have faced earlier in the day. Or even worse, the embarrassing run in with the Professor. Maybe I had that a bit backwards. Still, it was the place I came to escape the insanity of…well, _everything_. It could be overwhelming, the time traveling space ship, the constant threat of death, the liquor cabinet that was filled with forty-two different types of Caribbean rum, and yet only about a dozen were actually from earth.

Actually, some days, that cabinet helped more than it hurt.

Still, I was happy here. It wasn't a room in a spaceship. It was a room with books, and shelves. Standard normal humany crap. It was my place of tranquility. Inner peace. I was feeling perfectly happy about about the fact that I was a semi-insane time traveling adventurer. Nothing could bother me here.

"Are you feeling alright?" His voice startled me so badly that I jumped, something that you really don't want to do at the top of an eight foot ladder.

Really, don't.

My arms flew out and latched to the sturdy bookcase the ladder was leaning against, catching my balance. The book I had been holding didn't fare so great. It took a nosedive for the floor and landed with a heavy thud on it's spine. If books could speak, it probably would have screamed. And then said something obscene. And if it had legs, it probably would have marched back up the ladder and kicked my uncoordinated ass. Don't mess with books.

"Sorry," apparently he had noticed my less than graceful reaction to his arrival. "Donna said she was worried, when you disappeared so quickly."

Certain that I had a firm grip on 'not falling to my death from a ladder' I turned to face the source. The Professor was staring up at me, somehow having breached my domain with me being total unaware. I'd need an alarm bell or something for that. Or maybe just one of those cat collars that jingled.

"So?" He stooped down and plucked the book off the floor, holding it out for me to take. The way he was staring reminded me that he had asked something, and possibly expected an answer. I was still trying to get caught up on what the hell he was doing in _my_ domain. But it seemed rude to just come right out and ask like that.

"What are you doing here?" Nope, pulling the curse out hadn't made it sound any nicer. Oops. I hadn't really tried very hard to sound nice though, possibly due to the fact that my heart was still up in my throat from thinking that I was going to go flying down the ladder. And, he really wasn't supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here. There was an unwritten rule that this was my place to retreat, as it was by far the _most_ normal thing on the spaceship that was bigger on the inside.

And a centuries old alien who could regenerate after death _really_ damaged the whole 'normal' bit.

The scowl he was giving me reminded me that I was already sort of lowering the bar with my own presence, but that wasn't the point.

"Sorry," I shook my head, trying to sound like I didn't want to hit him with the book. "It's sort of my fortress of solitude. And you surprised the hell out of me."

"I apologize for that, Fitzgerald." Ugh. I hated that. Despite everyone else calling me Fitz, the Professor flat out refused. It was like living with my mother all over again. "Donna mentioned that you seemed bothered when you returned. And you failed to show up for a meal. It also doesn't appear that you've gone back to your quarters…"

I looked down at my rather grubby clothing, the same outfit I had been wearing while we had all been running for our lives. It was covered in crumbled plaster, bits of whatever had been in the 'forbidden pool', and a few scorch marks. The Professor, of course, looked recently showered and groomed, just like he always did. The black slacks and dark navy buttoned down shirt outclassed my jeans and t-shirt ensemble so badly it wasn't even a competition. I swear I was less of a hobo than I looked, it's just that book organizing was dirty work. Books always got dusty, especially old books.

But then, no where else on the TARDIS was dirty. Ever…

Which really meant that the ship was making some kind of artificial dust, to make it seem more _normal_. Which now had the complete opposite effect. I was starting to think the TARDIS had entirely too much time on her hands.

"What?" He was still watching me, looking for some kind of response if his penetrating gaze was anything to go on.

"I asked if you were alright," he said, even though he didn't roll his eyes, I could hear it in his voice that he desperately wanted to. "You seemed…upset after the incident with the sentries."

'Upset' was probably the polite way of putting it. I may have looked at Donna when she came to greet us and shouted something like 'these two are idiots' or something to that effect. Getting nearly vaporized had put me in a foul mood, but it had been replaced pretty quickly with my humiliating memory of getting very close and very vertical with the Professor. That had permanent trauma written all over it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine." I plastered a grin on my face, hoping he wouldn't notice that my ears had started to go a bit pinkish. "Thought I'd take it easy. I hear it's less shoot-y in libraries."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." The corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly.

"Do you harbor some secret vendetta against books?" Yet another reason to keep him out of _my_ library.

"No, actually. I rather like books. But I am recalling a particularly violent trip through one of the Four Quadrant Libraries. Seems the Silurians are rather attached to their ancient tomes. It was just unfortunate it was one that I was stealing at the time." Of all the memories he'd managed to keep, one of them was a violent robbery in which he was the villain. What a shocker. Apparently time lords weren't big on chess, or fishing, or any other boring pastime.

"I'm sure that was a hoot," I rolled my eyes, having less restraint. I slowly turned back toward my books. "So…are you remembering things?" I made sure I looked intently focused on the book in my hand, not at all like I cared about the answer. Or like I were prodding. If I looked at him now, he's see right through my casual demeanor, all the way to my blatant lies. And then after that, he'd probably read my mind, to find out what exactly I had been lying about.

It was sad that there was no doubt in my mind that he was capable of those things. He had told me that that wasn't really how it worked, but he was probably lying. He was always lying. And if he had those abilities before, who was to say he didn't _still_ have them?

That wasn't something I could just dismiss. That was something I'd have to wonder about, and fear, and grow increasingly paranoid about. That was the sort of thing I was good at. The logical part of my brain, that is to say, the very _very_ small part, told me that I was being silly. The Doctor would have warned me about something like that. He wouldn't just let us travel alongside the Professor if he was seriously dangerous. Or he would at the very least give us a warning.

'Hey, maybe the Professor will go nuts, worm his way into your head, and kill us all. But maybe not! Hah'

That seemed like the exact kind of warning he would give. Then again, I was recalling some of our previous adventures. _Everything_ we did was dangerous. I had yet to hear any kind of warning, or small disclaimer.

So much for feeling reassured.

"Not really," I was pulled back into the present and somewhat relieved to hear the Professor wasn't remembering things. The last thing I needed to drop onto my conspiracy paranoid platter of insanity, was the knowledge that the Professor remembered all of the skeevy things we had been up to. "Sometimes I catch bits and pieces. Dreams mostly. I try to sketch what I can."

"Oh yeah, forgot you were the 'artist'" I said with a smirk, risking a quick glance back, but his frown caught me by surprise.

"How did you know that?" His eyes had narrowed and he looked increasingly suspicious. Always testy, why was he _always_ testy? That was a stupid question. Like asking why rain was _wet_. Some people just had sticks up their…well. Some people were just more of a 'challenge' than others. The Professor happened to be one of them.

"Because I've seen your drawings, dummy. You know, when we were…" I realized my mistake just a second after it would have been useful to me. My mouth kind of hung open. You idiot, he was suspicious because for all he knew, you _hadn't_ seen his drawings. So now it sounded like I was a stalker. Peachy. "Well, before you were…" There had to be a way to backpedal out of this tactfully. "You."

Nope. That wasn't the way to do it. Not at all.

He did look less suspicious, so that was a positive. He also looked a bit like a very rigid tree. An _angry_ rigid tree.

"Er. Well, I mean, not- It was just before. You drew something for me. Before." It wasn't really proper grammar, or even a complete thought, but it _was_ more tactful that what I was thinking. 'Before you died' seemed like a step in the wrong direction, so I was reasonably pleased. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "Sometimes I forget that you're not-" _Him_? Was I really just going to say that? Out loud? I had been doing so well! Why hadn't I just stopped? It was a little weird to hear myself say it, how could I forget? He was a total stranger. A tall, dark, jaggedy cheekboned man who had replaced my shorter, fairer psychopath. And yet, here I was, admitting that I was forgetting there was supposed to be a difference.

What was distracting was the fact that he didn't seem to be angrier at my total inability to be polite. In fact, he look really really bewildered.

"I made you a gift?" He wasn't just confused looking now, it was like, a mountain of confusion, mixed with a heavy face slap of surprise. Which probably matched my expression, since I had no idea what he was talking about for a good handful of heartbeats.

"What? No!" I blurted out a little quickly. Possibly sounding more horrified than I had intended. "They were just parts. You were looking for parts at Torchwood. You had to sketch them out so I knew what to look for." It all came out in a rush, a panicked rush, but he seemed to understand the gist of it.

"Parts?" I was glad to see the bewilderment was gone, but not so excited to be rehashing the past. Since I had mentioned that I didn't really want to. Yet, here I was, doing it anyway. He really was a crafty tricky bastard.

"Yeah," I paused to take a breath. "You were making a vortex…thing." Most of the details had gone a little fuzzy. That wasn't my fault, these were advanced super alien technologies, I couldn't be expected to remember every little thing. Besides, he had caught me totally off guard. At least I remembered _some_ of it, unlike other people I knew.

Too soon?

Probably.

"Anyway, you drew the parts you needed. I mentioned you were pretty good. You said you used to like to draw." There, that wasn't so bad. A perfectly harmless trip down memory lane. What had I been so worried about?

"I see," he said, nodding. "And were we successful?"

"What?" More questions, that had been what I was worried about. Him asking questions. Because they inevitably led to answers. And sooner or later, it would probably be an awkward one.

"Did we rebuild the vortex _thing_." He raised his eyebrow and it was obvious that smug little bastard knew exactly the word I needed. It was just more important to mock my limited vocabulary. Of course, when it came to rude names to call him, I had a whole god damn thesaurus. Maybe my priorities were a little skewed, but I preferred it that way.

"Sort of," I huffed, turning back to my books. "Before you could really get it to work, the Doctor showed up. There was some confusion on our plan to deal with that," I shot him an annoyed glance before returning to the shelf. I didn't care if he didn't remember, that was still his fault. "So I had a bit of a…scuffle with the Doctor." It just now occurred to me how hard I had actually hit him. Probably time to get around to apologizing for that.

"You attacked the Doctor?" It was impossible to tell if he were more shocked by the idea, or amused.

"Yeah, well, _you_ told me he was a bad guy."

"Is he?" His voice had a dark edge to it. Someone had serious trust issues.

"No, you idiot. You _lied_ to me." Ah yes, the name calling _did_ feel good. I should really make a habit of that.

"Ah," he said, as though that were the obvious answer. It was nice to know I wasn't going to have to remind him he was generally a lying scumbag. One more thing off my 'to-do' list. Yippee. "How did we come to travel with the Doctor?"

I sighed, the progress on my shelving hadn't actually 'progressed' since he had arrived. Actually, it had taken a few steps back, since I had sort of thrown a few books onto the shelf to make it look like I was important and had things I could be doing. The book in my hand now had been there for the past five minutes, I was still no closer to deciding if it went with the biographies or the fictional non-fiction life accounts.

It was complicated.

"Well, I beaned the Doctor in the head, you worked on the vortex _manipulator_." Point for me, remembering the word. Small victory is still a victory. "But Jack got back into the room before you were finished. Shot me. You tried to escape with your crappy manipulator, but failed miserably. I think. I was pretty out of it, and when I came to, we were on the TARDIS." I thought that pretty much covered everything, but the Professor didn't look happy about it. Actually, he was in angry tree mode again.

"Jack? Jack Harkness? He _shot_ you?"

"Relax, it was just a dart," it hadn't really felt like a dart at the time, maybe closer to a giant fist sized saw-blade. "A _big_ tranquilizer dart. But it's fine now." I shrugged, he didn't seem to be relaxing. "Really. Stop making that face, it happened forever ago, and you don't even remember it." Maybe it wasn't exactly _forever_, but still, it was a ways back. "I'm fine, the Doctor's fine. Jack apologized, a lot." Though I had probably made us even when I had kicked him hard enough to bruise several of his ribs. Was that another apology I forgot? Oops.

"I'm not making a face."

"Yes. You are. It's your murdery face. It was scary then, and it's scary now."

"Do I scare you?" His dark look was broken up by the slight upward curl of his lips.

"Only all of the time." I snorted. That wiped some of the smirk off his face.

"Then why did you come with me?" And that was the exact kind of awkward questioning I had feared. Having to admit that maybe when he wandered into my workplace, wearing that totally unfamiliar face, I kind of hoped he might remember. I also didn't want to admit that maybe I didn't care as much as I did before. "The first time, when I approached you. Why did you agree to come along?"

"Oh," I breathed a sigh of relief. That answer was loads easier. "I wouldn't really say I agreed. But at the time, I was being chased by very _alien_ aliens who scared me a bit more than you. They were blue, and full of electricity, and…stretchy." I shuddered, remembering how _completely_ unnatural that had been. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." That, and I was too full of crazy to consider my options. Not that I'd really had any.

"The Joulex-" He stopped and stared blankly into space. And stayed that way until the silence started to get uncomfortable.

"Er…Professor?"I took a couple steps down on the ladder. The last thing I needed was for him to go totally bananas here in my sanctuary. Wasn't I supposed to be the one who blacked out? I kind of preferred it that way, only because I had no idea what I was supposed to do if I was in charge. Play solitaire until he wakes up? That seemed like the wrong answer.

"It's fine," he blinked several times, finally focusing his pale blue eyes back on me. "I thought maybe…" He shook his head. "It's nothing. Sorry."

I made a valiant effort not to look at him like he was crazy. After all, if either one of us was crazy, it was probably me. Or definitely. Yeah, it would have definitely been me.

"So after the Doctor-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," so far I had dodged a bullet, it didn't mean I'd be that lucky forever. Actually, if my memory serves, I'm incredibly _un_lucky. "Remember when I mentioned how I didn't want to talk about it?"

"Yes…"

"I still don't." It was better to stop him now, because it was only a matter of time before he asked a question that would leave me red faced and sputtering. And then it wouldn't really be that hard for him to figure out _what_ I was so sputtery and embarrassed about.

"Is there any _particular_ reason you refuse to discuss what happened?" His tone verged on irritable. Good, he could have a nice little pouty fit. There was no way it could be any worse than the conversation I envisioned in my nightmares.

"Yes." I said in a clipped tone.

"Would you care to explai-"

"Nope." I smiled cheerfully at him over my shoulder and that shut him up. Maybe now I could actually get some work done. The silence stretched on so long that I actually thought he had stormed off. Maybe I felt a little bad about that, possibly because I had been rude. But hey, these books weren't going to organize themselves.

"Why are you doing that?" His voice wasn't hostile any more, just curious. I was happy to say I didn't jump, or even drop a book. Which was really too bad, because now he was close enough under the ladder that I could have hit him with it. He nodded toward the shelves, hinting that he was asking about the books. So he was off the history topic. That was something.

Or, it was a trick. I'd have to be vigilant.

"It was all screwed up. This whole section was grouped by _color_. And not even in any kind of pattern. Do you know how insane that is?" And if I was asking that question, it was bound to be a bad sign. This whole wall was killing my inner librarian. A shelf of red, then green. Then purples and yellows mixed together. Who does that? "They at least need to be in the right topic. And alphabetized by author." Just so long as I could find an author. Something I was having some trouble with. Occasionally. Not being able to read the words was a challenge. Not being able to recognize the lettering as any known language was even more of one.

"Yes, I see that. I was more asking why you were _physically_ doing it. The ship is more than capable of changing it to however you'd like. I doubt very much that the Doctor went to the effort of doing this all himself, though it certainly seems to be his style."

Well…probably because it hadn't really occurred to me. Which was stupid. Obviously a ship that could move furniture from room to room, keep my closet completely organized, and hold an infinite variety of graham crackers in it's cupboards could probably rearrange a few books. At least it might if had thought to ask.

Then again, it hadn't occurred to me because that wouldn't have been very _normal_ at all. And would have pretty much destroyed the only reason I liked being in here.

"Cause I like to," I shrugged, pressing my hand against the rows of books. "I think she likes it too. Likes the books being handled. Feels kind of like hanging out with an old friend." Who I also had neglected to visit in the ole holodeck. But to be fair, that place was constantly in my nightmares. My sanity wasn't quite ready for me to go in there in the waking world.

And then I heard what I had actually said, and felt like an idiot. "Sorry. That sounded really stupid." I blinked, realizing he was still watching me.

"No," he pulled a face, like he was trying to be nice. _Nice_? That was a new trick. "Well. Perhaps a bit. But it does make a strange sort of sense." Ugh, at this point I'd almost rather he would just laugh at me. "I suppose that's fitting though. Seeing how you're so strange."

I shot him a dark look, but he was smiling. A joke. He had made another joke. Right? I guess the smirk on his face could just mean he was laughing at me. It was always hard to tell.

"Yes, well. Strangeness suits me."

"It certainly does seem to." That garnered another suspicious look from me, but it didn't really sound like he was being rude. It _might_ have sounded like a compliment. I mean, a sort of backhanded, completely unintentional, and mildly insulting, veiled compliment. But still. Even that was _weird_. How do I react to that? Am I supposed to laugh? Or yell? Or maybe try and drop this book on his head?

The last one was the most tempting, but probably not for the right reasons.

"I bet that charm of yours makes you a real hit with the ladies."

Wait.

What?

Why? What did I just say?

I can't be sure, but that sounded like I was trying to flirt. Are you flirting? Are you flirting with the Professor who isn't the Professor? God dammit! That was _not_ one of the options I gave you. Why couldn't I just listen when my gut told me to hit him in the head with a book? Why do I never screen the things I say before they come out of my mouth? Is it because I hate myself? Or maybe I actually _enjoy_ feeling like an idiot all the time.

"Only the strange ones." There was that look again. The one that reminded me very specifically of the last time lord I had flirted with. Who…was technically the same one I was flirting with now.

No.

The one I was _not_ flirting with.

And he was most definitely _not _flirting back.

"Hah," I said weakly, because I literally had no idea what else to say, especially not with those icy eyes of his melting my brain into a nervous puddle. "You wish." There, that was casual. Not weird at all.

The ground bounced beneath my feet and the lights flicked off. I clutched at the ladder, feeling much less comfortable at this height than I had thirty seconds earlier. I opened my mouth to scream, but the jolt had already subsided.

"Um. What happened?" My voice sounded squeaky in the dark. Well, it probably sounded the same, regardless of the lights. It was _me_ feeling vulnerable and uncertain in the sudden darkness six feet in the air.

"I'm not entirely sure," his voice sounded distant, like he had turned away. "Perhaps you should get down, in any case."

"I…I can't." I was completely frozen in place. My fingers were gripping the wood so hard I was certain they were going to fuse to the ladder. "It's too dark." There was no up or down, just blackness. Nothing like a good healthy reminder that I was out in the middle of space. Where humans weren't meant to survive. It was freaking me right out.

"Yes, well. It's a _ladder_. I imagine it works much in the same way." His condescending tone had the intended effect, I felt like my limbs could move again. Ever so slowly, I pried my fingers off the bar. My driving motivation was to slap him, hard. I took one step down, and when the world didn't explode, I breathed a sigh of relief. I could do this. I took another, and released my other hand. Feeling silly that I had been so petrified before.

That was my mistake right there. The lights flickered back on, dimmer than before, but that wasn't what concerned me. It was the violent shaking of the floor, up and down, and side to side. This time I didn't have as sturdy a grip, and the shaking didn't stop so much as continue to try and throw my from my perch.

When time slowed down, as I was falling to certain death. I spent it trying to get in all that last minute swearing. That and grabbing uselessly at the air as I tipped backwards, headfirst toward the ground. This was always how it was going to end for me. Some incredibly stupid and moronic fashion. I couldn't go out skydiving, or saving puppies from a burning building. It had to be falling off a damn ladder.

But then someone was ruining my grossly pathetic dive of death. Someone bony, with freaky fast reflexes. The ground finally stopped shaking, and what looked like emergency lights glowed yellow high in the recesses of the ceiling. Unfortunately it gave me just enough light to recognize the Professor as the one who was looming over me, keeping me from smashing my head against the floor.

"Are you alright?" There had to be some way to get out of this with at least a shred of my dignity left. But from where I was laying, hammocked between his arms and where my foot was still tangled in the ladder, I really couldn't see it.

I considered lying about being hurt, but I knew he'd catch me instantly. You know what would be vastly more embarrassing than falling like an idiot? Getting caught trying to lie about it.

Not by a whole lot though.

"I'm okay." I mumbled, still struggling to unhook my foot. Awkward as ass. I was never going to live long enough to forget this. Ever.

"Here, let me-" He hooked his arm under my legs, just as the ship started to shake again. He stumbled sideways, taking me with him and crashing into the bookshelves. I ducked my head down as several books came flying from above, battering against my shoulder, probably as pay back for dropping one of their kin. It continued for a good half minute before finally subsiding and the ship itself made a low groaning noise. Not a good noise.

When I was finally certain that the walls weren't going to come crashing down around me, I raised my head. Mostly because I had been using the Professor's shoulder as my shield. And also, I may have latched onto him with my arms in my panic.

I wonder if he-

Yeah. Crap. If I was interpreting that bizarre look he was giving me correctly, he had definitely noticed.

Someday, I'm going to find out just what I did in a past life to deserve this epic level of mortification.

"I'll set you down," He said because he thought I needed a warning. My face was starting to boil like a kettle and I was desperately trying to look anywhere but directly _at_ him, despite the fact that I could _feel _his eyes boring into me like icy little laser beams. What was worse, was that he had made no move to put me down. He _was_ going to, wasn't he? Because he _really_ needed to. Ideally before I opened my mouth and said something awkward and stupid.

That put it at maybe another six seconds. Possibly only four with the way he was still staring at me.

"Oi!" Donna called out in the dim light. "You alright in there Fitz?" Gods it's bloody dark in here." She swore, as what sounded like her knee, crashed into a table while making her way into the library. He didn't exactly drop me, but it was pretty damn close. And somehow, faster than I could see him move, he was kneeling over the books, casually stacking them. As though we weren't even in the same room.

"Yeah, we're okay." I called out just as I saw her shadowy figure round the corner, limping slightly now.

"We? Who's we? Been talking to yourself again?" She snorted but stopped short as the Professor stood up, a healthy distance away. "Ooh. _We_." She said very pointedly, trying her best not to look smug. Which is to say, she didn't try very hard at all. I walked over to her while the Professor stacked up the books on a nearby table.

"Don't _we_ me." I muttered, putting my hands on my hips. _"You're_ the one who sent him in here." I thought Donna had moved past the whole 'match-maker' business, but clearly we needed to have another talk.

"I certainly did not, I know better than to fuss with you when you're in a tiff-"

"What has the Doctor done with the ship?" The Professor asked testily, interrupting my planned argument with Donna. Of course she had sent the Professor after me, that was her M.O. after all. Why would he lie about that?

Because he's a _liar_.

Well, that was something to obsess about later…

Donna raised her eyebrow and looked at me sharply. "Well, he's fried the primary generators. Thought it'd be interesting to see if he could replicate those stupid fusion rector-cores you found in those bloody robots. I _told_ him it would fry the system, but you know the Doctor." She shook her head.

"Indeed. But why haven't you started the secondary system?"

Oh how I hated it when they went to spacey wacey talk.

"_Apparently_, he lost them in a game of Kulu with the high priestess of Rakash." She held up her hand pointedly. "And before you ask, I've no idea what he was thinking. Long story short, we're in need of a lift. Since the life support is running low, we're moving it all to the main control room. So, if either of you want to keep breathing, you should head that way. And," she looked at my clothing with a frown. "I'd get a jumper or two, or you're gonna freeze." Then with one more suspicious glance at the Professor, she turned and walked away, muttering about the need for extra flashlights.

Her brief glorious interruption had vanished, and she had left me behind. In the pool of awkwardness. I wanted to run after her, but that would have looked a little desperate. And I probably would have fallen into the pool on my way out.

"Never a dull moment." I sighed, kneeling down to stack up the rest of the books on the floor. It was silly, but my inner OCD couldn't just leave books scattered. Even if the room was about to be a lot less survivable.

"Yes, I had noticed." He helped carry the books over to the table and then I had nothing to do with my hands. Stupidly, I looked up at him, which was always a mistake. It didn't matter if there was air in the room or not, there was no way I could breathe under that kind of curious scrutiny. "Are you sure you're okay?"

If he asked me that ever again I was going to scream. "Yeah," I swallowed hard and made a show of dusting off my jeans. "Thanks for that, the whole 'saving me' bit." I should probably be more appreciative that we were just cleaning up books from the floor instead of fragments of my skull.

"Don't mention it," he gave a small smile. "I believe someone said that I still owe you a few."

"Yeah, well. I've always been a big fan of breathing, so we should…probably head out." Awkward girl is _painfully_ awkward. But that's alright, because it was a segway, and that's all I needed to turn around and head for the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Whoa there sister," I latched onto Donna's shoulder before she could disappear into the cloud of scarves that were hovering nearby. Almost positive they were scarves, but the way they soared through the air like butterflies, they might have also been exotic birds.

Just, without heads. Or really, any bird bits. Other than the wings.

They did have price tags though, so that supported my 'scarves' theory. Apparently products that just sat on top of shelves was way too boring in the future.

"I'm just looking at the scarves," she shot me a funny look. "Keep your knickers on. Did you see that purple one? I've got just the outfit to go with it."

"Yeah, well. Just don't go wandering off without me." I warned her, knowing full well that if she stepped into that shop, she'd vanish in a haze of floating fabric and I'd never find her again.

"Relax," she tweaked my nose as I tried to swat her hand away. "I'm not going anywhere, I haven't got any shopping money yet." She grinned. She made a good point. Although I kind of suspected Donna of being the type of person who could get just as much enjoyment from window shopping as she would from actual shopping. I knew some really _sick_ people. "Besides, the boys are nearby."

That was actually who I was hoping to avoid. The Doctor was behind us, under some kind of hologram bank, which looked more like a glass tube, but apparently it was all very technological. At least, I assumed it was a bank, since he had said 'Ah, here's the bank' before stepping in through the open door. See? I paid attention. Sometimes.

The Professor was also near the bank, having some trouble with a rather aggressive, and sort of translucent looking beggar. I didn't have any sympathy for him, having already run into a few myself. Although this one did have about eight spare arms to hassle him with.

"Oh," Donna said, noticing my wary look as I turned back to keep an eye on her. "Are you worried about hanging out with the boys? Or just _one_ boy in particular?" She raised her eyebrow with a coy grin.

"Donna, I swear…" I had always wanted a sister, someone to confide in, someone to be your best friend. Someone to think threatening thoughts about every time they brought up those secrets you told them. I risked another glance over my shoulder, but the Professor was still too busy trying to shoo away his new friend to pay us any notice. "Besides, it's not _that_." I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of specifying what 'that' was. Mostly because I knew if I did, I'd turn bright red.

"Oh? What is it then?"

"Donna, there's a _museum_." She looked like she was ready to catch me in a lie, ready to start singing 'Fitz and Professor sitting in a tree', but then her nose wrinkled up like she had smelled something rotten.

"Oh," she was less excited that she couldn't really tease me about that. Even Donna wasn't interested in going to the museums with the Doctor anymore, and she partly _was_ him. It had only taken me two visits to universally acclaimed museums to realize that the Doctor's commentary, while actually very impressive, also kind of ruined the whimsy of…well. _Everything_. At this point, you couldn't have paid me in diamonds to go into another museum with him. Not unless a very secure muzzle was installed. Or if I had those fancy noise canceling headphones. But even then I knew he'd constantly be making frantic gestures, trying to imply that the red stone carving on display was actually a fraud.

"Besides, they're going shopping for…" It was some specific word, it was big too. Related somehow to…technology… "Parts. Of some sort." Nailed it.

Donna smirked but she didn't say anything, knowing what it had been like to have been so generally useless. It was nice of her, but at the same time, I knew they all laughed about it when I wasn't around.

"Not. Interested." The Professor's raised voice caught our attention and we turned to see what was happening. The panhandler was still harassing him, a cup held out in one of his long wormy looking arms. At least two of them were gripping the Professor's shoulder, pleading with him to part with some money, while another one shook his little tin cup. He _was_ speaking English, technically. Donna had explained the whole TARDIS translation thing after I finally asked why everyone we met was British. But his words were still garbled, like he was trying to speak with a mouthful of jello.

"Yes, well, if you can't afford six-thousand offspring, I suggest not _having_ them." The Professor's mouth was a tight line and I saw him reaching for his coat pocket. "And if you don't unhand me _right_ now-" His voice was deadly quiet compared to the constant buzz of the shoppers around us, but I could still hear each and every one of them clearly.

"Er, Donna? I think we're about to see what happens if you put a jellyfish in a microwave." There was no way _I_ was jumping into the middle of that. But a good 'Oi' from Donna should be enough to stop him in his tracks. Or at least slow him down a little. Maybe.

"Ah ah ah," The Doctor scolded the Professor like a child, grabbing his arm just as the laser screwdriver had started to emerge from his pocket. "We do _not_ shoot the Pleabus." The snorts of laughter had to be quickly covered as an uncomfortable caught when the Professor's furious gaze swept in my direction.

"Here you are," the Doctor reached into the large bag he had collected from the bank, because of _course_ he was just going to keep money in a giant sack, and handed a small plastic sheet to the beggar. "Have a lovely day."

The 'Pleabus' responded by grabbing the Doctor's hand and grunting, or gurgling, his excited thanks before leaning back and hawking an inky black loogie onto the Doctor's palm. It then shuffled off and disappeared into the crowd.

"Oh _blimey_," the tone was all wrong, and he was smiling. I know if a hobo had spit on me, I would have been _livid_. "_Wow_." He wasn't just smiling now, he was grinning. He was positively _giddy_. "Look at this!" He turned to us, showing off his hand that was covered in a sludgy black stain. I was still missing the part where he was so excited when the powerful smell hit me and I stumbled a few steps back.

It was _awful_.

"Yeah, I see it," Donna had put the back of her hand over her nose, and while she wasn't as horrified as I was, she also didn't seem nearly as excited as the Doctor. "Do you mind keeping back-" But it was too late, a thick chunk of the stuff dripped from his hand onto her pant leg. "Oh sod it." She growled as she tried to wipe it off with a scarf she had plucked from the air.

"This is Pleabus phlegm! This is the luckiest substance in the galaxy!" His hand swung around to give me a better view. I was loads craftier than Donna and dodged away from his gooped hand.

"It sure doesn't _look_ lucky," I scowled at him.

"Ugh," Donna groaned. "Lucky my _arse. _It _smells_." She held the offending scarf out away from her body now, though there was still clearly a black stain on her leg.

"Did you know that there have been three separate attempts in the last century to replicate this substance by the best biological engineers in the Seven Systems? They've each failed miserably, of course. Actually, two of the experiments ended in violent explosions…" His voice trailed off, the smile on his face briefly dimming.

"Sounds like a fun job." I rolled my eyes but the Doctor was still too preoccupied with his hand to be bothered by my attitude.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm buying it, alright?" Donna scowled at the vendor who was gesturing angrily at the, now soiled, scarf in her hand. "Oi, moneybags. Pay the man, will you?"

"Yes, of course. Here you are." The Doctor balanced the brown bag against his chest in order to preserve the slime on his hand as he pulled out another couple plastic sheets and handed them to the disgruntled man.

"Ah, here we are. Proper shopping money." Donna went ahead and helped herself to a small stack of them. "Coming Fitz?"

"What?" That seemed to snap the Doctor out of the love affair he was having with his hand. "With you? But we were going to the museum. They've got the only remaining brick from the foundations of the _original_ Mall of America, from earth!" He added. "Well, at least, they _think_ they do. It's actually…well, no matter. And didn't you want to go with us to the Electrocil?"

"Er…about that…" the Doctor had, once, on a terribly misguided whim, tried to show me how to replace a fuse on the console once.

Actually, I just made that up. I don't have any idea what he _actually_ tried to show me. It had something to do with the ship, he seemed to think that I could be taught, no matter how many times I promised that I was really _really_ terrible with that sort of thing. Still, he had insisted. I'd managed to start a small fire in less than four minutes. When the Doctor had finished explaining that I really _shouldn't_ tap exposed wires together like I had seen in the movies, he decided it would be better to just show me how to do things. And I had sort of snuck off at some point, trying to see how I could best trim my hair to hide the singed ends.

Considering how bad it _could_ have gone, I thought it was almost a success. But I guess 'lost cause' wasn't something the Doctor was familiar with.

That was okay, I had plenty of time to teach him.

"No, _we're_ going clothes shopping." Donna said as she stuffed the cash into her pocket and chucked the ruined scarf into a nearby bin.

"But I have clothes." I said stupidly.

"Well, sure." She raised her eyebrow at me. "But I mean, _proper _clothes. Not like _those_." She said it with a certain kind of disdain. Another jeans and t-shirt day for me, and Miss fashion week was clearly not impressed with them.

"What's wrong with these?" I asked with an edge to my voice.

"Well, nothing," she corrected herself quickly. "I just mean. We'll get an outfit for you, yeah? A fancy dress. We're going dress shopping." She even seemed genuinely excited about it now.

"When am I _ever_ going to need a dress?" The TARDIS had a few, but the longer I had been on the ship, the further and further they seemed to get hidden in the closet. Smart girl. I was starting to reconsider this whole plan to escape with Donna. Was it too late to decide that I could handle one more museum with the Doctor? Maybe if I bought him a candy apple on the way, or something else equally sticky.

Do they have peanut butter in the future?

"Oh, I don't _know_," she said, exasperated and possibly starting to seriously consider leaving me behind. "We'll go somewhere nice after we get the ship fixed up. Won't that be fun? Oh!" She clapped her hands together. "I know, we'll go to Atlas!" It didn't really sound like she was talking about a map, but then, stranger things had happened on my adventures. Maybe she _was _totally psyched about a book of maps. "Doesn't that sound like fun, Doctor? See the Whalen perform? Have a night out, all of us?"

"Yes," he smiled, tearing his attention away from his hand. "Yes, actually, that's a brilliant idea. Did you know, the last time I was there, I was invited to be a special guest performer." The Doctor cupped his clean hand around his lips and started to make noises like a dying whale. It was awful. People stopped to stare.

"Yes, I'm sure it was lovely." Donna said delicately, pulling his arm down. "Save some of it for the reunion, shall we?"

"Of course," the Doctor said, still beaming. "Are you sure it's safe to be splitting up?" He was looking directly at me now, like _I_ was the problem.

"It'll probably be safer,"

"Safer?" He frowned at me. "How could it possibly be _safer_?"

"Well, you have kind of a problem with…attracting trouble." Actually, they _all_ did. But I had noticed, on more than one occasion, that when Donna wandered on her own, she usually managed to avoid it. It wasn't a foolproof plan, but it was _a _plan.

"Nonsense." The Doctor waved his goo covered hand at me dismissively.

"We did just get chased off a planet by a robotic army of security guards."

"She has a point." The Professor finally added to the conversation.

"Well, sure," the Doctor looked between the two of us, defensive. "But that was just poor timing."

"How about the cliff diving incident?" I raised my eyebrow. That had been a fun surprise. The kind of fun surprise that ends with us base jumping off the side of the deepest canyon in the universe. Without a parachute.

Not the general definition of 'fun' I guess. Closer to 'Oh jesus we're all going to die'.

Fortunately, when they said 'deepest', it wasn't just a scam to bring people in. I had enough time to scream, suck more air into my lungs, scream again, and then float over to the Doctor and punch him in the shoulder several times while he was calling Donna to come retrieve us with the TARDIS.

"Well," he pulled a face. "That turned out alright…"

"Sure. And the plastination? How did that go? Did that turn out _alright_?"

He gulped. "On a purely _technical_ level, yes." But he was looking much more guilty now.

"Doctor. I was a mannequin. For _three_ days." And I was still finding wax in some…less than appropriate places. The good news was that I wouldn't have to shave my legs for another two weeks. The bad news was that I was still drawing on half an eyebrow every morning. Also, I had been a _statue_. That made it a bit harder to think about the silver lining.

"Blimey, it does sound bad when you put it all together like that." Donna sighed.

"Yes," he shot Donna a look. "Well, I _did_ apologize for that. _Several_ times."

"I thought it was a great improvement." The Professor added helpfully.

"I couldn't _move_." I glared at him.

"Or speak." He smiled. "As I said, a _great_ improvement." I was pretty sure he was kidding, but that didn't stop me from taking an involuntary step forward in my desire to punch him in the face. Just a little.

"Professor," the Doctor said warningly, putting himself between the two of us. Normally that wouldn't scare me, but with that toxic sludge on his hand. Ugh.

"Look, it's nothing personal. I'm not harboring a grudge or anything," okay, maybe sometimes, but not in this _specific_ instance. "I just want a nice easy day is all."

"Alright," the Doctor said, still looking grumpy, but I'm sure his alien spit would cheer him up shortly. "We'll meet back in the TARDIS in a few hours." He turned to Donna. "Keep an eye on her. And yourself."

"Yes mum." She made a obnoxious face at hi. He gave a short nod with just a hint of a smile before he turned to wander off. It wasn't long before he started gesturing to a nearby stall vendor, who produced a jar and waved him off, refusing to accept any money from the man who smelled little worse than death. The Doctor started to scoop the offending substance into the jar before giving us a thumbs up.

"Alright then Fitz, let's- Oh," Donna said, remembering. "And heels. We'll definitely need to get you some heels."

"What?" I paled. Heels required balance, coordination, poise. I possessed none of those qualities, even in their smallest measurable increments.

"Come on you big chicken," Donna pushed my shoulder. "It'll be loads more fun than being shot at."

I had some serious doubts about that.

"Er…" I turned to find the Doctor, maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe I could still change my mind. I could just see his floppy hair, but closer, was the Professor.

"Have fun _shopping_." The Professor drolled, the corner of his lip just curving up.

"Oh shut up." I scowled at him. Nothing could be worse than dealing with an afternoon of his smugness. I hoped.

A full two hours and _eight_ shops later, I was feeling decidedly more grim about my decision. I mean, it was basically a giant floating shopping mall. How much trouble could they have really gotten me in? And I was practically immune to the Professor's smugness at this point, I would have been fine. Nothing could be as awful as this slow painful trudging from store to store listening to 'Oh, look at that' and 'Fitz, you have to try this one on!'.

It was exhausting.

By the time I realized Donna had no intention of letting me get away without at least making one purchase, I was hanging on by my badly chewed fingernails. So I gathered all of my energy, and the very last of my wits and exploded with glee the next time we found a dress that fit me and didn't have glitter on it. Donna had beamed at me, clapped her hands. I might have caught her doing a little cheerful dance.

If this whole 'plucky adventuring' thing ever fell through, I should really get into acting.

Unfortunately, even my Oscar worthy performance didn't get me back to the TARDIS. Because Donna was _still_ shopping. We were in a nauseatingly rose colored store, hopefully the last, because I was running out of energy to smile at her wardrobe choices.

"Oh, this is _so_ the one." Yeah, she had said that a record breaking _four_ times now. All of them had been purchased and sent back to the TARDIS. At least I didn't have to carry bags. That was something. She spun around once in the mirrors for me to admire, or really, for her to admire, and me to make noises of approval.

"Yeah." It had been two hours, that was as good as it was going to get.

"Alright, alright." She huffed at me, still winking at herself in the mirror. "This is it, I'll pop out and we can head back. But hey, no shooting whatsoever. That's got to be a positive, yeah?" She grinned as she disappeared into the changing room. If I _had_ been shot at, the Doctor probably would have already found his way ass backwards into a solution, and we'd be on our way to the planet of Willy Wonka and his chocolate factory. But I kept that thought to myself.

After four minutes of listening to her swearing I finally offered my assistance.

"You need some help in there?" I asked, still unwilling to get up from the chair. Hey, it was cushioned, and she hadn't said 'yes' yet.

"No no," she grumbled. "I've got it. Just need slightly longer arms-"

A woman screamed from the front of the store and I looked over my shoulder out the curtained doorway that separated us from the other shoppers. There had been all sorts of weird screams and shouts, which had been nerve-wracking for a while, but now it was just annoying. But this wasn't the 'I've found the shoes I've been looking for my whole life' kind of scream that I was expecting. It was more the kind of terrified shrill sound that I had become more familiar with in my time with the Doctor. Mostly because it seemed to follow us wherever we went. I could still hear Donna grunting with her wardrobe malfunction so I cautiously rose from the chair and peeked out past the pink drapery.

"This is a robbery!" I heard very clearly from the front. There were only three people in the store though, including the screaming woman. It was slightly less dramatic than I had be led to believe from all those heist movies I had watched. It was also confusing when the man appeared, short, sturdy, and yellow. The confusion wasn't the fact that he looked like a neon pig, but the fact that he was walking around with a chain that he was handcuffing people to. And he hadn't once asked anyone to open their purse.

It didn't make sense, but I had the feeling that I didn't want to end up on that chain with everyone else. I pulled the curtain shut while he was hooking the last of the shoppers up and backed away.

"Donna," I whispered at the crack of her door. "I think we're in trouble."

"I'll say, if this _bloody_ zipper doesn't-"

"_Shhh!" _I hissed at her. "Shut up, there's a man out there robbing people. Let me in!"

What?" At least she was being more quiet, though it didn't sound like she had any idea what I had said. Whispers didn't travel very well through wooden doors, in case you were wondering.

"Open the door!" I said with slightly more volume and urgency.

"Alright, alright. But then you're helping me get out of this thing-"

"Quickly, _quickly_-" I heard the door jiggle but it didn't swing open.

"It's jammed, I can't-"

"This is a robbery!" I heard the broken record repeat as he ripped back the curtain.

"Uh, hey there." I plastered a smile on my face as I turned around and tried to look calm. "Funny story, I don't actually _have_ any cash, sooo…"

"I don't want yer stinkin' cash." He snorted, now looking _and_ sounding a bit like a pig.

"But…you _did_ say something about a robbery, didn't you?" I frowned. What kind of criminal wasn't interested in cash? A crappy one, I was guessing.

"Ya, here for the parts." He grunted as he stepped forward with a pair of handcuffs. It was also linked to the chain that held the worried looking group of people behind him. Actually, they weren't really that worried looking, they were more…_annoyed_.

"Parts? I don't have any parts." I was growing more and more convinced that this man, or pig, or whatever, was definitely an idiot.

"_Body_ parts," He grinned, several of his teeth missing. "Takin' yer to the chop shop."

My brain didn't really _understand_ what he was saying, not immediately. But there was something very alarming about the words 'body parts' and 'chop shop' being used so closely together. I stumbled away from his outstretched arms but found myself stuck against Donna's door.

"No. No. No _thank you._" I added, thinking the politeness couldn't hurt my chances.

"Sorry love, just business." He smiled as he snapped the cuffs onto my wrists faster than I could say 'Lay off pig man!'. "Off we go." He grunted and clapped his fist over the blue button that hung on a bandolier across his chest.

"Don-" I just had time to shout before the world around us spun and I felt like I had been sucked into a whirlpool.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I just wanted to mention to all the adds and follows, thank you so much, I'm so happy you're reading. And to all the reviewers,**

**YOU ARE ALL LOVELY EXAMPLES OF THE HUMAN RACE AND I HEART YOU SO HARD!**

**Also, random tidbit. I was driving down the road the other day, and this car in front of me had a bumper sticker that said "Fitz happens" and I was like OMFGWTFBBQ YOU ARE MY FAVORITE CAR EVER! Except I was all alone in my car, so I just looked like a nutjob flailing her arms and giggling.**

**It was weird.  
**

**That is all! Thanks again for reading!  
**

* * *

Everything was bad. And dizzy. And nauseous. Mostly just plain bad. Bad like I had jumped onto a swing set and twisted up the chains so much that when the swing finally came to a stop, the whole world continued to shift around me. It wasn't a good feeling when I was eight, and it sure as hell wasn't a good feeling now. I squinted one eye shut, convinced it would help slow the spinning world. It wasn't really working.

"Come on," the pig man grunted, pulling on the chain that was firmly attached to all of our wrists. No one else seemed to be having the same kind of 'I want to puke and never stop' kind of issues.

"Yeah, totally. Just give me a second to die here." When I closed both my eyes, that only seemed to make it worse. _Much_ worse. My arms flew out in an attempt to stop myself from stumbling over and caught the woman in front of me.

"It helps to bend your knees." She patted my hand consolingly. "Before you take off."

It was important enough for me to open my eyes so she knew I was glaring at her, "Thanks." But my lack of enthusiasm seemed to sail right over her head.

"Move it." The chain jerked again, more insistently, and I had to stumble a step forward to keep from falling on my face. "Actin' like ya never been down a _portal_." He scoffed at me. Yeah, what a shocker. I didn't get the feeling he would believe my whole 'fish out of water' story, and more importantly, I really doubted he cared. Fortunately for my stomach, and the meal I had earlier, the world seemed to be slowing on its own and I could start to march forward without passing out. When I was convinced I could lift my head without causing some serious vertigo, I surveyed my surroundings. I was at the end of a chain of four people, and we had all managed to appear in a narrow concrete hallway. Cozy, like a parking garage and a tomb mixed together. There wasn't a door, or another hallway, or even a window behind us that I could see we had come through. That was unsettling. But then there was all the traveling I did in the TARDIS, so I was a seasoned pro at taking unpleasant impossible things in stride.

"Hey, so uh, what does he mean by chop shop?" I jogged a step so I could almost walk next to the woman who had been kind enough to not swat my hand away. She threw a sympathetic and slightly condescending look over her shoulder and smiled.

"Haven't spent much time here in the quadrant, have you?"

Grinding my teeth together, I tried to put a polite smile on my face. The attitude I could do without. Especially from little miss 'You can fix your hangover by not drinking last night'. But then she was the only one who had even glanced at me, so if I wanted any kind of answer, I was going to have to try and play ball.

"No. Just passing through. So what does it mean?"

"Oh, it's just what they call the harvesting factory."

Well. That didn't make it vastly more sinister sounding. Harvesting like corn? Could I be so lucky? Maybe I was just going to be sold into life as a farmer. The poorly lit concrete bunker didn't really seem like the place for crops. And ugly up front had said something about body parts…

Oh. Oh crap.

"Wait, are they going to take my kidneys?" I asked in a shrill tone as we approached the only visible door. Stainless steel and imposing as all hell. The woman gave me another 'oh you silly idiot' look and the pig man knocked on the door. "Hey," I said louder. "I don't know about everyone else, but I _need_ my kidneys. They're like, the favorite, of all my organs. Seriously." I had done a fifth grade project on them, that sort of counted.

A window in the door slid open and a single eye, a single, very _large_ eye looked out at us.

"Got some meat." The pig man said. The eye nodded once before sliding the window shut and the door swung open in that slow ominous kind of way. Cyclops had a hilariously spindly body compared to the size of his head, but that probably wasn't what I was supposed to be worried about right now.

"No more chatter." The pig man made a point of warning me before he led us inside. Well, that sounded like a _challenge_.

"I hate cold water too. That whole ice bath thing? I'll scream."

"It's not just the kidneys," the woman said patiently, but very quietly. "Keep quiet or they won't reboot you at all."

"What do you mean not _just_ the kidneys?" If she had hoped I was going to shut up, well, she had been wrong. What the hell else would they take? People can't be organ donors if they're alive. I was going to _stay _alive, right? "And what the hell is a reboot?"

"Shh!" She hissed as we entered the pristinely white and silver room. She _shushed_ me. No one does that. But I should probably be saving my wrath for the kidnappers, not the fellow victims. Even if she _shushed_ me. We'd certainly be having a serious talk about it after we got out of this mess. Because we _were_ getting out. Any time now. Just as soon as…well, Donna figured out what happened. Even though she didn't see pig man, or have any idea where I had gone. Yeah. Just as soon as she got that sorted, she would find the Doctor. And _then_ I'd be out of this mess.

Maybe.

Okay, I might be in some trouble.

Cyclops shut the door behind us and twisted the large wheel to lock it and remained standing there like a bouncer. Inside, there were a handful of official looking people in lab coats. They had clipboards too, they looked like proper doctors. You know, _real_ doctor's, not just lunatics who fancied an official sounding nickname. People in uniform were people I could trust. But the way they eyed our ragtag group of prisoners with little to no surprise made me feel less confident they were there to help.

"Hi, I think I'm lost." I said to the young woman who was remarkably human looking when she came to stand in front of me. She was making notes on her clipboard as she went down the line, not really listening to what I was saying. "See, I was just shopping, then I got lost. With a crazy pig man. Maybe you could call the police?"

She looked up from her clipboard when she reached the end of the line and gave me a sharp glare. "You know," she said, turning toward the pig man, who had a particularly nasty look on his face, like maybe he had understood that I had called him 'pig man'. "They don't need to be conscious when you bring them in."

"Well, they ain't gonna walk themselves down here." He grunted.

"I'd be happy to walk myself _out_." I glared at the both of them.

"You could have at least carried the _mouthy_ one." She clicked her pen sharply and stared at me, just so I'd know who she had meant.

"I'll show you mouthy you-" But I didn't get to finish my little tirade, because the pig man took the back of his fist and popped it right into my face. More specifically, right in my _nose_. My eyes started to spout water and a moment later, my nose did too. Except instead of water, it was blood.

_Ow_.

"Sedatives cost extra." He snorted, wiping his hand on his pants like I had given him germs. He was definitely on the shit list now. "You payin' or what?"

Paying? I was being trafficked? This weird piggy man had snatched me off the street to some secret bunker and he was going to _sell_ me to some unpleasant woman who had called me 'mouthy'? Except this place looked high end, officially sanctioned even. Real 'top secret' kind of officially sanctioned. Which made it _scarier_. This wasn't just some random kidnapping by crazy cannibal hillbillies.

Well. Actually, that probably would have been worse. Now I was giving myself the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.

But still, this was _ominous_. This was the government snatching me off the street and never getting to see the sun again. I had stumbled across the sinister underbelly of some kind of conspiracy. I was Mulder! This was the x-files! I knew the truth, but now I was caught up in it. Where was Scully when I needed her to save my ass? Any minute now she'd come- Dammit. I was staring right at her. Red haired, stern looking scientist. Scully had been _in_ on it. Had she always been planning on betraying me? That bitch-

Okay. Focus. Out of fantasy land. This was serious trouble I was in and making snarky comments in my head was _not_ helping.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm not actually for sale." I smiled, feeling the blood dribble down my chin. I probably looked like a lunatic. _Good_.

"You'll get paid when we confirm the count." Scully said sharply. "You brought in a _leper_ last time."

"Not like they announce that sort of thing." Pig man huffed, clearly offended by whatever Scully was implying about his kidnapping skills. As they were talking about prices, there was another person coming down our line. Except when I say person, I mean robot. It was a stainless steel android-y thing, wearing a lab coat. Which was kind of adorable. It pressed its hand against the woman's forehead and with some humming and light flashing, it appeared to scan her.

"Applicable." It said, just as it had for the other two in front of us. Scully made tick marks on her chart. When it came to me, I thought about trying to dodge it, but decided I'd probably just end up looking like an idiot and pig man would likely be happy to hold me down. As violently as possible.

"Invalid type." It said in a soothing tone.

"See? Exactly what I was saying." Scully tsked and made a frustrated mark on the clipboard. "Robert, all but the last. Take her to clean up."

"Oh, that's good news." My favorite captive friend reassured me, even as she was unlinked from my chain and led away. "You'll get rebooted straight off."

It's funny, because it didn't really _sound_ like good news. "Actually, unlike piggy here. I'm all showered up. Scouts honor."

"Tell you what, this one's a freebie." I didn't know what pig man was telling Scully until he reached back and backhanded me so hard my vision went black and I felt myself hit the ground.

_Owwwwfuckowassballsshitowwwa ssbutt._

Okay. The lesson I _should_ have learned the first time was 'don't backtalk the creatures who hit defenseless women'. Or maybe, 'don't call them names'. At least while I was still defenseless.

The lesson I was _actually_ taking away, was that I still wasn't good enough to kill people with my mind.

Yet.

And not for lack of trying.

"Much obliged." Scully looked down at me and smiled as pig man hoisted me up off the floor and back onto my feet. My cheek throbbed, actually, most of my face throbbed, and I could definitely taste blood from where I had bit my cheek. I was regretting some of my life choices. But it was only making me want to be more lippy, despite my face screaming at me to shut the hell up. "You're still not getting paid for her."

"Hear that? I'm not even worth anything," but this time when I tried to grin, I could feel the split in my lip and it changed to a grimace instead. Pig man shot me a look but didn't seem interested in throwing down again. I was, not so secretly, relieved.

The rest of the chain gang had already disappeared through the door by the time Robert came forward, he didn't have a nice lab coat, but instead, something similar to a janitors uniform. There was only one way to go besides back the way we had come, and something told me no one was interested in letting me use the exit. Instead he dragged me by my bound wrists through the door everyone else had disappeared through. It was more of the same bunker, except now it was huge. The ceilings were still a good ten feet above me and there were at least a dozen floors of metal grating down below. The whole place had a serene blue glow to it because of the hundreds of glass bathtubs that were filled with what looked like blue water.

They might have been beautiful except for the fact that they were all filled with body parts.

Some were still recognizable as people, or aliens. Others, well, they were down to an arm and a few vital organs that were still floating around them in the blue fluid. It was all still connected together with veins, or maybe some artificial tubing. It looked like some kind of Frankenstein horror flick.

Maybe I hadn't been that far off with the whole crazy hillbilly theory.

Someone cried out. And then another. Hearing one voice seemed to set the others off, like a pack of dogs. But out of the hundreds of people that were down there, only a handful were making any noise at all. Some of them just didn't look like they were capable of it, and others looked as though they had given up. Their moans echoed off the wall and Robert yanked me forward, reminding me that I had come to a complete stop.

"Are those people?" My voice came out as a hushed whisper as our shoes clanged against the metal gangway that crossed over the nightmare beneath my feet.

"Not any more." Robert grunted, evidently used to the scene by now. I swallowed carefully as the taste of bile mixed with the sharp metallic flavor already on my tongue. I looked down and found where the others had been taken. Just one more floor below they were being marched to their own empty tubs. The mousy woman from before saw me looking and flashed a sad smile before she climbed into the pool. She may not have been very useful, but she had meant well. Was she going to slowly be taken apart, just like everyone else here? She was just going to turn into a pile of organs, and then nothing.

What the _hell_ was the place?

"Where am I going?" I asked, realizing that while it was probably good that I wasn't down there joining them, it didn't mean the place I was headed was any better.

"We've got a place for you in the back. Depending on how production goes, we should have you rebooted by the end of the week."

"Yeah, listen. I don't know what 'rebooted' is. Why can't you just put me back where you found me?"

He snorted and pulled me further down another metal walkway, heading toward the far wall where there were several more doors waiting for us. "Wouldn't be very smart to just put you back on the street after you've seen the place."

"What? I didn't _see_ anything," he came to a stop in front of one of them and swung it open. "I just got zapped here. Really, there weren't even any doors the way I came in." The room beyond was much darker than the artificially lit main chamber, actually, it looked kind of like a broom closet. The blue light spilled in through the main door, and from what looked like air vents up above.

"They've got ways to extract that kind of information." He said as he pulled me across the room to where there was a large cage. He produced a key from his pocket, it shimmered and changed shape before he pressed it to the padlock and it snapped open. "Here you are." He waved me forward.

I arched my eyebrow at him, getting into the cage seemed like a really bad idea. I was just trying to think if I could properly strangle him with my wrists locked up like this. He wasn't as muscled as pig man, but he wasn't a slouch either, and he had about a foot on me.

"Don't make me call your keeper. I'm sure he'd be happy to spare some time getting you in here." He sneered.

God damn tall people. And their smugness. I made a kissy face at him as I walked through the cage door. He was also now on my shit list. People here were _assholes_.

"You're welcome for the company," he said over my shoulder as he slammed the gate shut. "Make the best of it while you can."

Well, that was worrisome.

I turned slowly and realized I could just see another figure, sitting in the corner, his face masked by the shadows. But he looked big.

"Well hello there, sweetheart. You here for a good time?"

Note to self. Never go shopping with Donna. _Ever._


	5. Chapter 5

The door slammed shut with the kind of unpleasant finality that suggested my buddy Robert wasn't coming back. No, even with that fantastic rapport we had built in the two minutes of time we had been together, he was going to leave me here. In this mostly dark storage closet. In a _cage_. With some other nut-job.

Was there any way this was going to end well for me?

What should have happened, was I should have fought harder. You know, when I was still on the safe side of the cage bars. But all of the hurt I was feeling was making me too big of a sissy. Way to pony up. Now I was going to have to bite some guys face off just so I could survive long enough to figure out what the hell to do. And, frankly, I wasn't sure I was up for that.

The dark stranger stood up, every bit as tall and muscular looking as I feared. One of these days, I was going to find myself confronted with a leprechaun, and I was going to beat the pants off that little bastard. It was gonna be great. I would sing songs about how I had kicked that stumpy little ginger straight back to rainbow hell. Unless he had magical powers. Then I was probably screwed. But even that seemed more appealing than dealing with my current ogre sized fellow inmate.

Don't panic. It's fine. We're both prisoners. We're _technically_ on the same side. Maybe we'll be friends. We can share stories, whine about the food, and then miraculously be saved by Batman. Crazier things _had_ actually happened to me. I guess I hadn't really met any superheros. _But_ some superheros _were_ aliens, and I had met a shit ton of those. That was basically the same thing, right? We were going to be best buds for life!

Wait. No. Now I'm remembering every prison movie I had ever seen.

Damn. Back to face eating.

"Listen guy," I tried not to stammer as he took a step toward me, still existing solely in the shadows, like he was the most cliched villain to exist _ever_. I'm surprised he didn't have an evil little cat to stroke as he marched forward. "I'm in a shit mood right now, so if you wanna keep your eyeballs where they are, you should probably stay put." Standing up a little straighter, I jutted out my chin. Hopefully he could see the blood spilling down. It would either make me look totally bad-ass, or completely deranged. Either one of those would work for me right now. "Also, I know Kung Fu." That was a little excessive, and an outright lie. But I had watched the hell out of every Bruce Lee movie, and I could make those noises in my sleep. That was half the battle, right?

"Oh, _feisty_. I like that in a woman." He took another step forward, apparently not believing my claim to be an eyeball removing Kung Fu master. Dammit. "Get that from Donna, did you?"

…What?

Who the hell-

The last step he took forward brought him fully into the light, I should have backed up, but I was just too damn confused about how I had managed to get locked in a cage with someone who knew Donna. Or with someone who _knew_ I knew Donna. His pearly whites gleamed in a cocky smile and I didn't need to see the rest of him to know exactly who it was.

"_Jack_?" Relieved. Shocked. Annoyed. My emotions were always in a blender. Also, he had looked bigger in the shadows, so I was a little pissed that I had been so scared.

"That's _Captain_ Jack, ma'am." He corrected, giving me a mock salute. "You uh…you look like hell." He said, the grin melting into a frown.

"Gee, thanks Captain Windbag." I rolled my eyes. Glaring, or even smiling, would have put far too much pressure on the muscles in my face. The muscles that were screaming for me to kill them, kill them now. So I just kind of stared at him in a dull way. He actually didn't look so great himself. Well, he was still breathtakingly beautiful. That was annoying. But he also look strained, frayed around the edges. Not quite the plucky and cheerful adventurer I had met before.

"Of course, still as charming as ever." He winked. I blushed. Well, the parts of my face that weren't already covered in bruises and blood, blushed. I wasn't proud.

"Yeah, the guy who brought me in agreed with you. Except instead of 'charming' he used the word 'mouthy'. I'm sure it's just a cultural difference."

"And you let him live?" Jack asked with an arched eyebrow. I was flattered that he thought I might have been capable of killing someone. Or at least inflict enough bodily damage that it sort of _looked_ like I killed someone.

"Not willingly." I lifted my chained wrists.

"Yeah, got a pair of those myself." He nodded.

"So…what the hell are you doing here?" Because, really, what the _hell_ was he doing here?

"Oh, you know. Uncovering illegal organ harvesting clinics. Breaking up crime rings. Putting a stop to injustice throughout the universe."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Well," he shrugged. "Not so great right now. Hey, now that you're here, we should come up with some kind of escape plan."

"That's a great- Wait, were you _not_ working on one before?" I gave him a curious look, but instead of answering, he held up his wrists.

"Got a bobby pin on you?"

"Sure, let me just pull one out of my ass." I sighed. My one, and _only_ useful talent, which would have been _really_ useful just then, was basically dead to me, unless I put my hair up. I patted my jacket just for show, but one of the pockets gave off a metallic rattle. Well…I had _thought_ my pockets were empty. It took some twisting but I managed to get my hands into the pocket, only to find a handful of the stupid things. "Or…I have several…" I stared at them for a long time. Maybe one, okay. On accident. Maybe, _maybe_ two. But this was like…seven. This was probably more hairpins than I actually _owned_. It was deeply unsettling.

"Well, give em here-" Jack had his hands out, ready to undo both our cuffs. But he could just sit there and wait a bit until I was done. If I was going to see that pig man again any time soon, I wanted to make sure I could properly throttle him. I dumped the cuffs on the ground and handed Jack a pin of his own and then headed for the cages gate, the padlock looked simple enough, even with its super special transforming key. That probably had more to do with Robert wanting to carry fewer keys and less to do with real security.

It did take some swearing on my part, and a few minutes. But I managed. As it popped open it slipped from my fingers and fell to the ground with a loud clang. Fortunately, no one was around to hear it and I swung the door open wide.

"Ta-daa!" I smiled at Jack who was regarding me carefully.

"So, uh, where did you pick up that little skill?" Something in his tone was just a little _too_ smug for my liking. And I recognized the look he was giving me from the last time someone had watched me undo a pair of handcuffs.

"Honestly, what _is_ it with men and thinking this somehow relates to…I don't know, promiscuous activity?" I shook my head, "You managed just fine. I'm not over here judging _you_."

"Well," Jack shrugged, his easy grin returning. "I _am_ a conman by trade. At least, I was. And _definitely_ promiscuous. So what's your excuse?"

"My brother." I answered a little sharply. "This is about as far as I can get us. So what's your plan?" I asked him. Hopefully, it would be something other than just running back the way I had come, fists swinging. Mostly because I didn't really think that had any chance of working. Also, because there was actually no way to escape, even if we managed to get past the doctors. At least, not one I had seen. Maybe there was a secret passage I had missed.

"Well," Jack stepped past me and opened the door just a crack, surveying the area. "I don't really plan. I improvise." He said with an alarming grin. He pulled something out of his pocket, or several somethings. They were small and metallic, and I wondered what the hell they had let him keep an excessive number of zen balls for. He opened the door wider and chucked them all outside and then slammed the door shut, leaning against it with all of his weight.

That can't be a good sign.

"What are-" before I could finish the thought a loud _BOOM_ pounded against my ears and the floor. The door flexed into the room, almost knocking Jack down, but he held his shoulder against the metal firmly and it remained shut. So if I were to take a wild guess, I would have said he'd just thrown _grenades_ out the door.

"_Jesus_." My ears were still ringing and it seemed like maybe I had yelled instead of just speaking in my normal tone of voice. "Maybe a little heads up next time?"

"Sure thing," Jack didn't even sound remotely sorry. "You ready? We're going to have to run."

"What a shocker." I sighed, even without the Doctor, that always seemed to be the case. You'd think I'd gradually get better at it, but you'd be wrong. Just as soon as they invented those hover-boards, I was totally set. I'd just glide along while everyone else was a pile of flailing arms and legs. That was going to be a really great day. Soon. For now though, I was terrible at running.

Jack gave a reassuring smile as he pulled open the door, but I'm not sure even he was prepared for the heat blast that hit us. We both stood there, struggling to breathe against the boiling wall of air that had come from nowhere. Of course, it hadn't _really _come from nowhere. It had come from throwing four grenades inside of a building. It wasn't just that though, it was the blue liquid. It was very _very_ flammable.

Instead of some general structural damage, the 'chop shop' was now a raging inferno. Each tub of suspended organs was a bath of fire, until the heat grew too great, and the glass shattered. Sending the burning liquid to the floors down below. The screams of the few survivors could just be heard above the crackling and groaning metal that was starting to melt beneath us.

"Oh shit…" I whispered. It had only just now occurred to me that maybe I wasn't quite ready for this much fire after my last experience on the holodeck. But, to be fair, this was an _insane _amount of fire. I'm not sure I would have been alright even if I'd only had a happy tranquil picnic that day. But it definitely didn't help, and I felt every muscle in my body freeze. Petrified. Like wood. Except petrified wood wouldn't burn. I definitely would.

"We have to move!" Jack was shouting at me, marching out the door, into the oven-like factory. Thick green smoke was rolling up from the fires below us, already coating my nose and mouth, gumming up my lungs. When I hadn't moved, he latched onto my arm and yanked me forward.

I can do this. No big deal. There definitely aren't zombie time lords waiting to kill me this time.

The screams grew louder.

"There's people down there," I don't know why I said it. I knew it was unhelpful just as soon as it left my mouth. But he was trying to make me run out into that fire, where I was going to _die_. Maybe I just wanted to acknowledge that I had heard the screaming. Maybe I hoped they wouldn't hunt me down and haunt the ever loving shit out of me as long as I noted their passing. I don't know. I was freaking out.

"There isn't time. Dammit Fitz, _move!_" He dragged me another step forward. Sweat was starting to bead across my skin and my glasses started to fog up.

"But-" That woman was out there somewhere, the annoyingly useless, but ultimately well-meaning one. She was trapped in a tub somewhere, just as scared shitless as I was. And I couldn't fucking move.

"I've rigged this place to blow. We've got four minutes. We need to get out of here." He said, his fingers digging painfully into my arm. Four minutes? Four minutes and I was either going to burn or explode to death? Finally I felt life return to my limbs. But neither of us saw the lamp swinging down from the rafters until it caught Jack full in the chest. He lost his grip on me as he stumbled back, and it wouldn't have been too bad except he stumbled all the way to the railing. And then flipped right over the back of it.

"Jack!" I screamed, sucking in way more of the powerful smoke than I should have and instantly giving myself asthma. And then the lamp swung back and crashed into me. Or really, it landed on me. Crushing me on my back against the metal grating that was slowly heating up to an unbearable temperature. I'd have a nice little cross hatched brand in my back. A friendly reminder of the time I _burned_ to death. I was too busy coughing so violently I wanted to throw up to try and shove the lamp off. My worthless little t-rex arms couldn't have budged it anyway, the thing was weighing on my chest like a crate.

God dammit. This was the end. I was going to get crushed to death by a lamp, and half my lung was going to be spewed out next to me. My eyes were burning with the heat and smoke, so I almost thought I was hallucinating when a dark figure appeared above me. Or maybe I was actually going to meet death.

'Not this time, Fitz' he's say with a jovial chuckle. 'You sure gave me a run for my money'

Oh death, that funny little man.

But then he was lifting the lamp off my chest, and helping me to stand.

"Professor?" I asked, pushing my glasses off my nose so I could wipe away at my eyes.

"Are you alright?" He was holding my shoulders, glaring down at me with an intense brand of fury. Like this was somehow _my _fault. Like _I _had thrown the lamp down on myself.

"Jack!" I babbled at him. "Jack fell down below!" I was pointing, and coughing, and crying. Mostly coughing. And trying to blink so the smoke wouldn't hurt my eyes so badly. "We have to get-" But I was interrupted by a tremendous crash. The heat had proved too much for one of the support beams and the whole top floor listed sharply to the side, taking us along for a ride. We both fell to our knees, hoping to ride it out instead of tumbling to our fiery deaths. The gangway slammed against the wall and ceased to fall any further. I looked back over my shoulder, half of the floor below us had crumbled, collapsed completely. And the flames were only growing higher. I searched frantically for Jack, he had rolled with the tilted floor, but he was still above the flames. That was something of a relief.

"We have to-" Now I was just choking on all the smoke in my lungs. God my throat burned.

"I'll get him." The Professor said, his lips in a thin stern line. He dug into the pocket of his wool coat and pulled out a dark scarf, wrapping and tying it quickly around my face before I could scream 'Ouch, that hurts you fucker'. Which I wanted to do, just as soon as I could stop coughing. "Get back to the TARDIS." He said, hoisting me to my feet on the uneven ground. "Back that way," he pointed. "Straight on until you see a yellow door. The TARDIS is just inside."

I shook my head, looking back to where Jack was sprawled down below. This had been my own damn fault, when I had turned into the worlds biggest chicken. I had to make sure he was okay. The Professor shook me once, violently enough to remind me of every little pain I was feeling. "You need to go. _Now_." He didn't raise his voice. But what he lacked in volume he certainly made up for in tone. There was a very grave threat in it. The kind of threat that said if I didn't get moving, I was going to be sorry I had ever _heard _of the Professor. "Do you understand?" He asked, slightly less intimidating, as though he was afraid I had actually lost my shit. Which was probably the case.

I nodded.

"Go." He said, shoving me backward. And then he turned and ran for the stairs, leaving me to make my own way. There was only a second where I hesitated, but my instincts kicked in. Burning to death was not the way to go. Not at all. My first few steps were slow, because the bottoms of my sneakers had started to melt. But once they were free, I was flying. My feet hammering out a beat almost as fast as my heart. The scarf made it hard to breathe, but it also blocked the worst of the smoke and already I was feeling less like choking to death. The air cooled as I ran and I only slowed down when I saw the yellow door, with the Doctor standing just outside of it, scratching his head.

"Blimey!" He jumped as he saw me coming. "You're a sight." He said with none of his usual exuberance, in fact, he sounded a little worried. It was a relief to see that the blue box really was just inside, sharing the space with an unused mail room. I felt so much safer the instant my feet hit the TARDIS floor.

"Oh, of course you came from the _burning_ part. Why wouldn't you, ya big idiot." Donna was shaking her head, scolding me even as she pulled me to the chair, helping me to sit down.

"Where's the Professor?" The Doctor asked intently, his enormous forehead creased in frown lines.

"Getting Jack," I tugged the scarf down from my face so I could speak and breathe the clean sweet air at the same time.

"Jack- Fitz, you're bleeding, are you alright?" Donna hissed in a tight breath as the Doctor prodded at my swollen face gently.

"I'm fine." I said, pushing his hand away so he wouldn't do something stupid like poke me until it hurt more. Of course, I wasn't fine. Not by a long shot.

"So who's Jack?" The Doctor asked.

"Jack. Our Jack. The same idiot Jack who thought grenades were a good-" I jumped up from the chair, even as Donna was trying to wrap a blanket around me. For the love of god, _why_? I was boiling. Not important. Not even remotely important just then. "Oh _shit_. He doesn't know."

"Doesn't know what?" The Doctor gave me the same look one might give a very deranged mental patient.

"About the explosives." My throat, which had been pretty parched at that point, practically turned to ash. Four minutes, he had said. How many minutes ago was that? Three? Three and a _half_? Oh shit shit shitshitshit. I ran for the door, knocking past the Doctor. I almost made it too, ready to dive back into the factory that had turned into a living nightmare, because I had forgotten to tell that idiot that he was going to explode any minute. But two shadows were blocking my path. I should have been relieved to see them, but I didn't get the chance, because the world behind them exploded, throwing them forward into the TARDIS, and directly into me. The sound was so loud that I think my eardrums burst instantly. A cloud of fire and concrete followed them in, and we might have just imploded with the rest of the building if the Doctor hadn't slammed the door shut.

Whatever parts that I still had that hadn't been hurting, were now crushed into the TARDIS floor, or being jabbed by Jack's elbows.

Jack groaned as he rolled to the side, but not really _off_ me. Of course it didn't matter that he was still crushing me, he could take all the time in the world. It was totally fine.

"_Off_." I slapped feebly at his shoulder, but my argument wasn't very convincing. Not until the Professor finally got up from the floor and dragged Jack off me by his coat.

"Thanks." I was still breathing shallowly, anything deeper than that was going to set off the foot of ash I had inhaled and I'd never stop coughing.

"I was gonna move." Jack said, his face pressed into the glass of the TARDIS floor. "Just after everything stops feeling like burning…" He did look quite a bit pinker than when I had seen him last.

"You alright?" The Professor was standing above me, offering a hand to lift me up. Ugh. I was with Jack on this one, I didn't want to move ever again. But I was pretty sure if I just ignored him, I'd look ungrateful. He had, after all, saved me from a lamp. And death.

"No." I said, petulant to the last. I grabbed his hand, but I didn't make a real effort to stand. Instead I let him use all his effort to hoist me up from the floor. For a scrawny fellow, he seemed surprisingly capable.

"Well, you're not _dead_." He said curtly.

"And you didn't fall off a bridge." Jack said, mostly into the ground. He seemed to lack the energy to turn his head.

"Thanks guys, that makes me feel loads better." I felt like falling right back down and never getting up again. "Jack, maybe don't improvise so much next time."

"What are you talking about? It worked perfectly."

"If I hold him down," I turned to the Professor. "Will you beat him for me?"

The corner of his mouth just barely curled into a smirk. But then I got all woozy and stumbled sideways. Whoops, guess I really wasn't ready to stand up. The railing, and the Professor, were there to catch me before I completely collapsed, but I'm not sure either of them would be able to stop me if I really blacked out.

"Perhaps we should make sure you're alright, first." The Professor suggested.

"Might not be a bad idea." I nodded slowly. "But then the beating, right?"

"Absolutely."


	6. Chapter 6

"_Ouch_." I flinched back from the warm wet towel that was prodding at my lip. Donna just rolled her eyes, there was a permanent scowl affixed to her face. _Allegedly_, I was being a bit of a baby about getting patched up. "Well it _hurts_." Wow. That sounded pathetic. Okay, maybe I was being a _lot _of a baby. Too bad my 'give a crap' meter was broken, along with every other bone in my face. Everything else in my body bitched and moaned too, apparently explosions weren't that good for people, neither was getting landed on by heavy-set men. But right now, my problem was my lip, and Donna, aggressively, trying to clean out the ashy film that had wormed its way into my open wounds.

"I gathered." Donna's patience was coming to an end. Actually, she was probably way past the end at this point. Probably two exits and a fifty dollar cab ride past it. There was a voice in my head that admitted she was being infinitely more nice to me than I deserved. Bleh. Bleh on you voice. Being a grown-up was for losers. I was going to keep on whining.

Well, in my head I was. I should probably cut back on verbalizing it if I didn't want Donna to try and feed me that towel.

She dropped it back in the bowl of warm water and looked over her shoulder. "How are you holding up, Jack?"

Jack hadn't mumbled a peep since we had laid him out on the cot. In my defense, no one was poking at him. Although, my clothing hadn't started to melt into my skin, so I guess that made us not even at all on the pain scale. Getting it back off of him had been a pretty stressful experience. Did you know skin makes a noise when it peels away? I didn't. It was sort of similar to ripping off a band-aid. Except it was infinitely more horrifying because it wasn't a sticker we were pulling off of him, it was_ layers of skin_. And then don't forget to add Jack's strained noises of agony. That will be a nice preview of the nightmares I'd be having for the next week. Or possibly for the rest of my life.

"I'm fine." Jack repeated his mantra. Which was insane, because what he had just gone through would have rendered me sobbing and screaming for my mommy. He must be speaking French, because those words could _not_ mean the same thing I thought they meant. Donna wasn't interested in taking his word for it.

"Sure. I'm sure you are." She said in a tone that screamed 'bullshit, you liar'. Good for her. She had been over to check on him several times, just like now. If anyone on this ship was an adult, it would have to be Donna Noble. She lifted the white sheet we had draped over Jack, revealing the much improved, if a little tender looking, pink skin beneath. Jack had insisted several times that he didn't mind going without the sheet, still a bit of a whore, even in excruciating pain. What a trooper. I was actually immensely relieved they had covered him up, because I had been unable to look away from the open blisters and oozing raw skin that made up his burns. Trying to remind myself _not_ to think about that was about as useful to me as the annoying voices in my head. Which is to say, _not very_.

"Uh…Donna?" Jack raised his eyebrow when he noticed she was still standing there, just staring at his chest. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the way she was gazing didn't really look very medical in nature.

"Hm?"

"Enjoying the view?" Jack's mouth curled into a smug grin and Donna shook her head, looking up as though she had just realized he was still awake.

"What?" She snorted, letting the sheet flutter back across Jack's torso. "Don't be silly. Just making sure you aren't growing your skin back, you know, green or something." She turned back around so Jack couldn't see her and pulled a guilty face at me. Totally busted. I started to laugh, but that scrunched my face painfully, so it morphed into more of an unhappy groan.

"Hey, anytime you want to throw some action my way, I'm all yours." He winked.

"In your dreams fly boy." Donna rolled her eyes as she grabbed the back of my chair and wheeled me over to a rather dumpy looking floor lamp. I gave it a good long glare, just so it knew I wouldn't be putting up with any of its 'falling on my head' bullshit. Not on my watch. Once I was centered beneath it, Donna reached over my head and flipped it on-

_Jesus mother fu-_

It was bright. White hot light of a million billion suns.

Okay, not quite, but close. It was much closer to an industrial factory bulb than it was to any of the 60 watts I had back home. My eyes had seared themselves shut about half a second before I had even thought about closing them. It was an intense god damn light.

"It feels funny." It was tingly, and surprisingly, not warm. It sort of felt like when my arm fell asleep, except all over, and there was no painful buzz of the blood flow surging back into my limbs. Yet. Oh hell, I was going to be _so_ pissed if that happened.

"That means it's working." Donna said off to my left. It wasn't impossible to open my eyes, but I had the feeling I wouldn't have been able to see anything even if I bothered. "Now hush and sit there for a bit. I'm going to see what the Doctor is up to. Promised you a nice bloody vacation and that's exactly what we're going to get. Had it up to here with these adventures always ending up with most of us half-dead." She muttered to herself.

"Preach it sister." The sentiment was one I was familiar with. "But no shopping."

"Don't get smart with me miss, or you'll find yourself at the biggest museum in the universe. Just you and the Doctor."

Uh oh. Do _not_ anger the grown-up. She will always get even.

"I'm sure whatever you decide will be lovely." I made an effort to smile, even though it probably came across as a grimace. Donna humphed in a 'that's what I thought' kind of way and her footsteps retreated from the room. Hopefully she had been appeased. Or maybe there was going to be a really long lecture about the Aztec's of Jupiter in my very near future. That's something I could worry about later. For now, I would enjoy my lamp, every ache and pain seemed dulled beneath it, like bathing in bright sunshine, without feeling like my skin was about to light on fire. The cuts and bruises on my face were tingling with high-grade super space light and it was already starting to feel substantially less like I had slammed my face into a wall.

Hurrah.

Jack coughed dryly, a reminder that I wasn't actually alone in the room, even if I couldn't see anyone else. Unfortunately, that reminder just made me feel like a weirdo for not saying anything.

Dammit.

"So…" You could just let it be quiet, well, except you've broken the silence. So now you have to at least finish your thought. Wait, what the hell was I going to say? God dammit. I am really ill prepared for this. "What are you doing way out here?" Small talk was the bane of my existence. Well, the second bane, right after 'long uncomfortable silences'.

"You know, just living the life. Defending the Earth. The usual." He didn't really sound like he was in the mood for small talk, but he also hadn't been dismissive enough for me to sit there contentedly in silence. Whatever happened to the good ole days when we were baboons and communicated in grunts and occasional grooming sessions? Why couldn't that be me?

Who was I kidding, I would have been the awkward ape that groomed at all the wrong times.

"You're uh…not on Earth. You're actually way out-" It occurred to me that I had no idea where the great 'super mall in the sky' was. Something I should have considered before speaking. "Er. Well, I'm pretty sure we're not anywhere near Earth." Someone would have mentioned the giant mall in space.

"True, but defending usually involves stopping the problem before it _gets_ to Earth." He grunted. Alright, that sounded practical. I was still holding out hope that my 'giant brick wall around the planet' idea was going to get picked up, but I guess there were other options in the meantime.

"That makes sense." I nodded. "So why are you out on your own trying to get blown up? Isn't there supposed to be back-up in these kind of missions?" We had met a whole team of people back in Cardiff. Granted, I couldn't remember any of their names, or faces, or really anything other than they had hair. I think.

"No back up." Even without opening my eyes, I could _hear_ the casual grin melting off his face. "Not anymore."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all. It should have been a helpful social cue for anyone, other than me, to shut my mouth and endure the silence.

But it was sooo awkward.

"Did you get voted off the island?" Which was stupid, because who would want to get rid of this adorable hunk of a man? Probably idiots. He was better off without them. Though, I suppose everyone has their limits. Maybe they hadn't been fans of charm and ridiculously good-looking hair.

"Not quite." As thick-headed as I was, it was still easy to recognize the tone Jack had used as _not good_. I snapped my mouth shut, silence be damned. Never going to ask personal questions again. Actually, maybe it'd be better if I just never opened my mouth again. That was probably the best option and I could think of a few people who would probably agree. "There was an accident." His voice was uneven, sounding nothing like Jack at all. All the people around me were insanely strong, hell, they were freaking robots when it came to emotions. One of them cracking, especially Jack, was actually legitimately frightening. "People died…they expected me to save them. Even after I-" There was a hitch in his breath and I felt my own throat closing tight. "But I didn't. I couldn't. Just…guess I wasn't enough like the Doctor. Not even close."

Oh _christ_. This was a real and total breakdown. I have _no_ idea what to do. Don't panic. _Don't_.

"That's…that's a stupid thing to say." Okay, that was awful. Not very nice either. Or reassuring. Or even remotely close to 'it's going to be okay'. Way to go.

"Doesn't make it less true."

"But it does. It's just…it's _ridiculous_." I was still kind of digging myself deeper here.

"Ouch kiddo." He chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. He was trying to act like what he was saying wasn't a big deal. Like I had just _imagined_ that tone of voice that sounded like he was some broken shell of a man.

"I'm serious. The Doctor is some kind of walking _disaster_. You can't live up to his standards because they're completely _insane_." My mind flashed back to the casual game of laser-me-to-death-tag he'd been having with those sentries. There was no way he should have walked out of that with all of his limbs intact. "He just falls ass-backwards into luck." Maybe it was even a superpower of his, absorbing the luck of all of his companions. Like a sponge. Or a leech.

"Says the girl who just got rescued."

"Yeah, by _you_." He was putting some real effort into being an idiot. As a gold member of that club, I had to commend him.

"No," he corrected. "I got steamrolled by a light fixture."

"Actually, _I_ got you steamrolled. If I wasn't so busy being a moron," or, a total chicken. I had sort of failed the whole 'fight or flight' test. Probably something I needed to work on. "If I had just moved when you told me, we would have been fine."

"Maybe," he admitted, but he didn't really sound convinced.

"What the hell were you doing anyway? Leaving your whole escape plan till the last minute is, I have to tell you, a really shitty idea. How were you gonna get yourself out of that in time?" It was awfully bold to set bombs before you actually knew you could escape. Not the kind of boldness that I would embrace any time soon. In fact, it was probably best if I was never in the same room as a bomb, set or not.

"Wasn't really planning on it."

It took a second for that to sink in fully. What did he mean 'not planning on it'? Did he mean what I thought he meant? I rolled out of my lamp so I could make damn sure he knew how angry I was.

"Ah ah, you're supposed to stay-"

"Shut up." I said, wheeling very determinedly toward his cot. It took a few seconds for the white spots that were dancing in my vision to fade, but once they did, I turned my glare power up to eleven. "You…you were just going to _blow yourself up_?" My voice was an unflatteringly high nagging tone. My mother would have been so proud.

"It's not really as bad as it sounds." Jack was smiling, a little guiltily. Not really how someone should look after they admitted that their brilliant plan for escape was _suicide by explosion_.

"Really? Because that sounds pretty fucking _bad_ Jack-"

"Is there a reason you're not where Donna told you to stay?" The Professor cut off my tirade as he walked into the room and I shot him a dark look for the inconvenience. Jack was _not_ getting out of the scolding of the century. Not by a long shot.

"Jack here is telling me about how he had this great master plan where he blew himself up instead of escaping. I'm sure that isn't the case, but if it is, I need to be closer so I can punch him in the face." My glare returned to Jack. "Please, tell me I'm wrong."

"It's really not that bad." He was insisting, almost looking nervous at my proximity. Good. "I'm just…well, sort of immortal. It wouldn't have really slowed me down for too long."

What?

_What_?

"_What_?" Yes, thank you, my thoughts exactly. It was nice to see I could still verbalize them.

"He would have just revived." The Professor said calmly, and Jack nodded once. Like this was a totally normal conversation to be having. Talking about the god damn highlander. Sure, it wasn't the _weirdest, _but it was probably very near the top of my constantly growing list.

"So you do remember." Jack said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Some of my memories have been returning, yes." The way they were hate-staring the hell out of each other made me think things weren't really very chill just then. It was almost distracting enough for me not to worry about what _other_ memories might have returned. Almost.

"It's nice to know our time together was special." Jack was furious, but he still had that handsome grin plastered across his face like a mask. The Professor's normally impassive expression deepened into a frown. "Did he tell you about that?" Jack's eyes glittered dangerously as he spared me a quick glance. No! Abort mission! Whatever pissing contest they were about to have, I did not want to get involved. Mayday! MAYDAY!

"Probably not." He shrugged, not taking my silence as a hint. "Probably too busy to mention those times when he held me and the Doctor hostage on the Valiant. What was that game we used to play? Oh, right. The one where you tortured me to _death_. You were pretty good at it, very _creative_. Good times."

Wow. Okay. So this was getting progressively more awkward. Did I want to hear more about what a son of a bitch the Professor was? No, I wanted to stick my hands in my ears and go 'LALALALALA'. Jack didn't seem to care though.

"What did they use to call you? Saxon, right? Had that pretty little blond wife of yours." Whoa, hello green rage monster, where did you come from? Right, hearing about Jack being tortured by the Professor makes you uncomfortable, but knowing that he had a wife makes you furious. What _am_ I doing with my life? "Prime Minister of Britain. Bet that was a real hoot. Killing all those people."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Son of a _bitch_." When it grew silent, I realized that I had said that out loud. Oops. It was just that I had remembered something important. Well, no, it wasn't. Keeping my mouth shut. The one lesson I will never ever learn. "Sorry." I shrank when I realized they were both also staring at me. "I just…I just remembered who that was. Saxon. I told you that's who you looked like, way before. You blew me off like I was crazy…" Wow. Wow I should have just pretended to have Tourette's there. None of that fuzzy 'I was totally right' feeling was coming. Jack had a confused scowl like I was a monster for dismissing the torture, and the Professor was looking like he had no idea what I was talking about.

"Well," Jack said, removing the focus from me again. "He was always a good liar." It sounded like he still had a bit of a grudge against the Professor. Totally justified. Wasn't really sure what I could do about it though. Scold the Professor? I settled on keeping my face carefully blank, but they seemed more interested in glaring daggers at each other anyway.

"Yes, _thank you_ Jack, for that pleasant trip down memory lane." The tone could have been interpreted as dismissive. Or as 'shut your mouth before I shut it for you'. There were a couple options. While Jack certainly had the advantage in weight, I had the feeling the Professor was scrappy, and quick. Both qualities I wouldn't underestimate. Plus the whole 'diabolical' thing. If he was still that way.

And I should probably stop placing bets in my head.

It was nice to watch the battle of egos from the outside. It was uncomfortable as all hell, what with the burning sexual tension between the two, but it _was_ finally nice to not be the source of the awkward argument. Besides, it sounded like these two needed to air their grievances just to get it out of their system. And the Professor looked loads more composed than I probably was capable of.

Whatever, my flustered face was fabulous.

Speaking of which…Why was the Professor now staring at me so intently? Were we having a staring contest? It started to get weird when I realized Jack had now joined. Damn.

"Don't feel too bad, I get lost in those baby blues too." Jack smiled sweetly, his voice dripping with venom.

Yep, that will be my face, burning bright red as I immediately looked at the Professor. I mean, they were a nice color, but that's not- That wasn't what I had been looking at. Crap, but it is what I'm looking at now. Don't think crazy thoughts, don't think crazy thoughts. Why is he _still_ looking at me? He was kind of giving the impression that he was waiting for a response.

"Sorry, what?" I should have punched Jack when I had the chance.

"You still need to sit under the bioaccelerator, your lip needs some time." Instead of waiting this time, he just started to drag my chair under the lamp. I clutched the armrests, trying to maintain a dignified appearance. This wasn't going so great. That's what I get for not paying attention. Guess I rewarded myself a little early on the whole 'isn't it nice not to be the awkward one'. What was that phrase about not counting chickens before they hatched?

You know what? Chickens are dumb. How about that for learning lessons.

"Hey, I just had a building explode in my ear." Yeah, that's right. I had a legitimate reason for not paying attention. Suck on that.

"Yes. Which is precisely why you should stay _here_." The Professor said as he planted me back beneath the lamp and the blinding light, but not before I could shoot him a defiant glare.

"I bet you'd make an excellent mom." I heard Jack snort derisively. At least he thought I was funny. The Professor didn't say anything, but I imagined I could feel his disapproving frown, even through my personal sunbeam shield of destiny.

"What? You don't want to check on me?" Jack called after the Professor's retreating footsteps. "Psychopaths are so cute, aren't they?"

"Sure." I rolled my eyes, despite the fact that they were shut. While there wasn't a problem having Jack's back on this, it also wasn't far fetched to call _everyone _on this ship a psychopath.

"I mean, you don't actually believe his whole act, do you?"

"What act?" If he were acting, I'd have to assume he'd act _nicer_. Usually people acted in a certain way to get what they wanted. So far, the Professor had only acted in a way that made Jack angry, and usually drove me up the wall.

"His whole convenient 'amnesia' game. You know it's just a scam." There wasn't a shred of doubt in Jack's voice. He sounded so confident that it actually freaked me out a little. Probably because of the fact that it had never actually occurred to me that that might be what the Professor was doing. When it should have been the _first_ thing I considered.

"I dunno," I shrugged. No, okay. Don't panic. Maybe that sounds like something crazy ole murderin' Professor would have done, but the man I knew? Not really. He wasn't a saint, but he also wasn't an asshole who would play mind games- Okay. I wasn't completely sure about that. But it did seem like kind of a stretch. "Why would he bother?"

_Just because he can_. Shut up. No one asked you.

"Are you kidding?" Jack and my inner doubts seemed to be on the same page. "You don't think it'd be convenient for him if we all just kind of forgot about what a bastard he is?"

Wow Jack, tell me how you really feel.

"I think you're missing the part where _he's_ the one with the memory loss."

"Sure. But how could the Doctor justify punishing him for things he can't remember doing? You don't think the Doctor planned on making sure the _Master_ had to answer for his crimes?" He said the name like a curse and I had to swallow, because that was a scary name. Silly, but scary in the way that you knew certain things about the kind of person who would choose _Master_. One was a twelve year old who took themselves too seriously, and the other was a monster who fully expected people to use it. Having an argument about the trustworthiness of the Professor was, frankly, way above my pay grade. What could I say? I believed him because we had been friends before? If he didn't remember being friends, who was to say he felt the same? Could I really be sure I wasn't some pawn in one of his stupid manipulative games?

Was I sure I wasn't a pawn before?

Shut up. You're really not helping.

"After things slowed down, you don't think maybe he saw that the Doctor was a threat? So he just pretended like it all never happened."

But he wasn't really pretending _that_. In fact, he was constantly asking about it. Which was part of why I was always so afraid to run into him alone.

"Well…I don't know how much traveling you've done with the Doctor. But when has it ever slowed down? Because 'slow' is not a word I'd ever use to describe it." Tactfully deflecting. One of my specialties.

"Guess I should have known you'd have his back." Jack grunted.

"Excuse me?" Sure, in my head I was avoiding the topic. But I didn't really see how pointing out a serious flaw in Jack's logic was covering for the Professor. Hell, I wasn't even sure I _did_ have his back.

"Nothing."

"I'm sorry about what happened to you Jack. I know it doesn't mean much, but I really am sorry." There was no way that could make anything remotely better, no idea why I even bothered saying it. What was it with people and their excessive need to apologize for things? When in the history of _ever_ had an apology made anything better?

"Don't be sorry. Just be careful Fitz."

"I'm always careful." I scoffed, now he was the one sounding like my mother, but it didn't seem like it would be polite to remind him of that.

"Yeah? Because from where I'm sitting, you're just as distracted by pretty boy as you used to be."

"You think so?" My jaw had clenched so hard it started to hurt. All of the sympathy and understanding I'd been feeling toward Jack suddenly curled up into a tiny paper ball and lit itself on fire. "I'm just kind of funny that way, you know? When people are constantly saving my life, I guess I just give them the benefit of the doubt. Remind me again, who was it that pulled you out of that burning building earlier? That one you were planning on _burying_ yourself under?"

"Just because you haven't gotten bitten by a snake, doesn't mean that you won't."

"That's a really great metaphor Jack." I stood up from the chair, careful not to hit my head on the lamp. Because that was the exact kind of thing I'd pull off in the midst of my grand storming out. "I'm feeling much better now. I think I'll go rest in my room."

"Come on Fitz," he sounded almost apologetic. "I'm just trying to give you a heads up." The last part sounded more patronizing. Like I was such a moron that I couldn't see that the Professor was dangerous. Hell, everyone here was dangerous. Especially _me_ right now. How awful would it be if I walked over and slapped him, right over that newly grown skin of his. When I tried a similar stunt on my little brother after a particularly painful sunburn, it hadn't ended well for me. Guess I could skip it, especially since I'd just feel shitty about it later.

"Next time I need reptile handling advice, I'll be sure to give you a call."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey all, just wanted to let you know that you're all exceptional and lovely. Also, I wanted to give extra thanks to my superstar reviewers.**

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In the plot twist of the century, Donna had _not_ been exaggerating. The Whalen's were incredible. Sleek skinned and vibrantly turquoise, they easily stood twice as tall as the Doctor. They reminded me a little of elongated squids, but with only two legs attaching them to the floor instead of more than I could count. That wasn't really important, and neither were they the most exotic looking creatures in the room.

What _was_ important, was their voices. Oh. My. God. I mean, I was nowhere _near_ cultured enough to really appreciate it properly, but it was still, by far, the most amazing thing I had ever experienced. Ever. It still had me giddy, and the concert had already been over for at least an hour. Now we were enjoying the food and the fancy booze, but those voices were still resonating in my head. It helped that they had speakers that were also playing a recording of the music, but it didn't quite compare to hearing them live. There was nothing that could ever top that. All the crap I had gone through was totally worth it.

Now we were hobnobbing with the most sophisticated clientele in the galaxy. Everyone, and _thing_, was dressed in their finest. It didn't mean they were all wearing tuxes, but it was clear that they had all dressed for the occasion. We were all classy as hell on our floating concert platform. Hovering above a _planet_.

It was _awesome_.

Mind you, the dress wasn't that great. Actually, it was the heels. Those were the biggest pain in my ass. My feet had gone numb maybe thirty minutes ago, so I guess that helped. But no matter how many times I brushed down on the heavy emerald skirt, it never quite stayed below my knees. Jeans. Jeans were where it was at. And that's exactly what I was going to spend the rest of my days in, fancy social gatherings or not. Maybe I'd just get a black pair.

"Oh stop it, you look lovely." Donna chided me, sipping from her martini. She was cutting a pretty flattering figure herself, the last dress she had purchased, slinky, and a deep crimson color, it had caught the eyes of more than a few of our fellow attendees. We did look pretty glamorous. Well. Donna did. I looked 'glamorous' in the same way a pug might if you put it in a tutu and sunglasses.

But I was having a good time, so didn't bother arguing with her. Instead, my attention drifted to the dance floor, if you could really call it that. It was hard to be sure with such a wide range of movements going on. Very few of them were recognizable as something I'd seen a person actually _do_. But the Doctor had reassured me, twice, that they really were dancing. He had called me _judgmental_, the snob. We couldn't all be so universally experienced in the variety of moves that had yet to actually be _invented_. He had then taken it upon himself to demonstrate all of the ones he knew, with several partners. He insisted on dancing with every guest at least once, so he was keeping busy. When my time came, I graciously accepted, with the strict understanding that if he tried anything other than a foxtrot, I'd stomp on his foot.

The dancing wasn't even the strangest part. Or the space aliens. Or all of the different kinds of foods that I couldn't recognize by sight or taste.

No, the weirdest part, of this whole thing, was just how _normal_ it was. We were just watching a concert. Eating, drinking, having a good time. Something that I might have done back on earth, if I'd been slightly more social than a rock. The only fire was for food prepping purposes, and no one had exchanged bullets. This was just _the_ most normal thing I had ever seen this group do together. It was enough to make anyone nervous.

Jack swaggered over, kissing the hand of a mostly humanoid female who twirled away and disappeared into the crowded floor. "Evening ladies," he grinned, dropping another empty shot glass onto the table and leaning on his elbow. He was much improved, both his mood, and his unscathed looking skin. My lip was still a little raw, but for the most part, healed. Probably should have stayed under that lamp. "You're both looking radiant." He winked at us and I had to wonder how much of it was an act. There had been something very broken in Jack when we had spoken in the clinic, but hell if I was going to ask about it. He was being his usual charming self, and I was trying to be equally cheerful. There hadn't been an official apology on either of our parts, but I was happy to consider it over and forgotten. He seemed to share the sentiment as we had already danced together a handful of times and not once had he slipped in a thinly veiled insult about me or the Professor. Of course, it might have more to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed, but that worked too. Nothing like a serious drinking problem to bury all those mixed emotions way down deep so they couldn't tear you apart. If he was lucky, his liver would kill him before he'd ever need to deal with them.

Well. Except he was immortal.

So…not lucky then.

"Yes Jack, we know. You've already told us a dozen times." Donna sighed, but the grin she gave him suggested she didn't mind so terribly. He took the drink she was holding to sample it and handed it back with a nod of approval. How many had he had? A million? It would be responsible for me to actually ask, or just get him some water. But he was a grown man, and 'responsible' just wasn't a word I had ever had much use for.

"Yep. And just as soon as it stops being true, I'll stop telling you." He smirked. "You here to ask me to dance, curly?" It took me a moment to realize he wasn't talking to another stranger who had been drawn in by Jack's swaying hips and easy grin. Trust me, there had been _plenty_. But when I turned to see who it was, the Professor was there, looming over my shoulder. The Doctor and Jack had both donned tuxes, but the Professor had just worn a black suit, with a dark purple shirt beneath. It made him even more of an imposing figure, but I had to admit, he looked good. Plus, I was surprised he had decided to dress up at all.

"Perhaps another time." He gave Jack a thin smile. Neither had spent much time together, and they hadn't spoken much when they did. But that was actually a huge improvement, since the alternative was much worse than silence. "Our table has been invaded by some Rodal's with a very loose definition of personal space." I looked in the direction he had come from, and sure enough, there were a couple of unfamiliar creatures lurking at the table where we had eaten. Except they looked strikingly similar to teddy bears.

I snorted, which earned me a skeptical look from the Professor so I did my best to cover it with a cough. It wasn't really my fault that the image of the Professor fleeing from over-sized teddy bears had sort of popped into my head. He couldn't really _blame_ me for that, could he?

"It's a party, you're _supposed_ to socialize." Donna rolled her eyes at him.

"I believe the Doctor is doing more than enough of that to compensate for my shortcomings."

"Well," Donna shrugged with a smile. "You've got me there. The man does love to dance. Even if he looks like a giraffe."

"Speaking of which." Jack stood back up and straightened his jacket, holding out a hand to Donna. "Care to join me on another trip around the floor? I'm worried one of my Tairn admirers is closing in. They're a bit…handy." Something about the way he said that made me think he hardly minded.

"Oh, I suppose." There was Donna, pretending to be put upon again. The slight curl of her lips suggested otherwise. She finished the last of her martini and let Jack start to lead her away from the table.

"Fitz? Professor? You joining us?" Jack's eyes flashed with amusement. It was impossible to tell if he'd meant it as an olive branch, or a slap in the face. Definitely leaning toward the latter. But that didn't matter because I was completely capable of not turning bright purple with embarrassment about things that were not _actually_ embarrassing, contrary to what the voices in my head believed.

"I'm sure we'll be fine-"

"Certainly." That caught me by surprise, and ruined the whole casual dismissal I'd planned. The look I gave the Professor as I turned on him must have been a bad one, because he looked alarmed. "If, of course, that's alright with you?"

"Er. I mean…yeah, sure-" My mouth was working, but I could already feel my tongue trying to trip itself up as I rushed over my pathetic attempts at recovery. Breathe. It is important to breathe.

"Have fun you two." Jack was looking awfully smug as he dragged Donna into the fray, twirling her under his arm once before they vanished behind a couple who looked like they were crab-walking the jitterbug. Alright, so I was on my own. Dancing.

"Coming?"

Right. _Not_ on my own. With the Professor, on my own. Somehow that was infinitely worse and nerve-wrecking at the same time. I tried to put a smile on my face as he offered his hand, but it probably had that slightly desperate look. He must not have noticed, because he started to pull me, somewhat haltingly, into the swarm. It wouldn't be _so_ bad, right? It wasn't like we were _alone_ alone. There were plenty of people around us. Plus, I was getting better at dealing with the Professor all the time. What did I even care? Dancing? Pshht. He was practically a stranger, this wasn't any different than dancing with the handful of other polite aliens that had bothered asking me. This was a cakewalk.

Man. I was really going to need to get better at lying to myself.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when he pulled me forward and put his hand on my waist. A friendly reminder that dancing usually involved intimately close distances. What had I been saying earlier? About how great normal was? Give me back impending doom. Impending doom I could handle.

Okay, but don't. I really didn't want to add 'possible death' on top of my social awkwardness. It hadn't been any fun the first time around and I wasn't looking to repeat it. Just…act normal. This wasn't a big deal. Of course, it would help if I wasn't such a paranoid train-wreck all the time. Probably.

"Kinda clumsy, might step on your feet." I cleared my throat because my voice had croaked out like an eighty-year-old chain smoker.

"Nonsense," His low voice rumbled directly in my ear. "You seemed quite capable earlier." Great, so he had been watching us. That wasn't worrying at all.

My eyes were focused intently on the collar of his shirt, it seemed like a really bad idea to try and look at him directly. Because I knew if I did, those damn eyes of his would trap me, and then who knows what kinds of stupid things would come out of my mouth. "Didn't know you could dance." Even though it was just an attempt at small talk, I was genuinely surprised at how easily he seemed to be moving. It was just a relief that I hadn't managed to trip yet.

"It would have been rather foolish of me to ask you if I couldn't." Wouldn't really classify what he did as 'asking', not properly anyway, but hey, now probably wasn't the time to get into that. "And nine hundred years is a very long time to go without learning to dance."

"God you're old." That sort of slipped out. Not that I had forgotten, but knowing someone was obscenely old and then hearing the phrase 'nine hundred years' was a completely different experience.

"I prefer to think of myself as wise." He replied and out of the corner of my eye, I could see his mouth curl into a smile.

"Well, you're probably just going senile."

"That's a possibility." He admitted. Banter was good, I could totally handle banter. It would keep me from worrying about my hand resting on his shoulder, or my palm starting to get damp in his grip, or if he could smell the cheesecake flavored cocktail I had earlier.

Well. It _had_ been keeping me from worrying about it.

Until now.

And now there was silence, because I couldn't think of anything else to say. All I wanted to do was wipe my hand on my dress so he didn't think I was some creep with clammy hands. There was seriously something wrong with me.

He let out a resigned sigh, "What was it?" It was nice of him to break up the awkwardness, but I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Um…I'm not sure what-"

"Before I regenerated. What was it I did to you?"

"Well, you…helped me?" I risked a quick glance at him, but the frown he was wearing suggested it wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"Fitzgerald," his tone was scolding, and coupled with my name, I assumed I had to have broken a lamp or something. "I remember trying to kill the Doctor. More than once, I believe. I remember the Valiant. With Jack. He wasn't the only one I was…keeping imprisoned." Well, that was putting it _mildly_. "There are probably a thousand other cruel things that I did that I haven't yet remembered. You don't have to lie about it anymore. You can tell me. What did I…" He paused, sounding almost apologetic. "What did you have to endure?" What? Who the hell was this man and where was the master of isolation that we had been taking with us on our adventures?

"Other than your less than charming personality? Uh…nothing."

He raised his eyebrow suspiciously. Crap, now I was looking at him. But it was more out of confusion than anything. "Jack seemed rather adamant to remind you of my past transgressions."

"Well, yeah." Great, so this _was_ to do with what Jack had said. I'd have to thank him for that later. "Because you _tortured_ him. I'm not saying you were a saint, but by the time I met you, you were sort of…over that whole homicidal maniac thing." Mostly. But I didn't feel like I needed to be that specific.

He was still watching me, possibly trying to see if I were lying. "But you're constantly at odds with me."

"I uh…do that." I hadn't been aware that he had been paying attention to any of my snarky comments. "To everyone, actually."

"Yes. I had noticed. But you don't avoid any of them. And you never seem to be worried by them either. It's only me that you seem genuinely…_bothered_ by. I thought perhaps it could be explained if I had-" His face went carefully blank and he stopped mid-step, dropping my hand. "I can see that isn't the case, I apologize for troubling you." His clipped tone gave me the impression he was annoyed, not just annoyed, but properly angry.

"Hey!" My arm on his shoulder tightened and I grabbed for him making sure he couldn't take off. This was as much of an emotion I had seen since his regeneration. That was an enormous shock, but instead, I was focused on how irritating it was that he was having it for no damn reason. Of course that was the only reaction I ever produced from the Professor that I knew was genuine. Nice to see some things never changed. "I'm not avoiding you."

He gave me a scathing look, but he also seemed to be slightly perplexed by the way I had sort of thrown my arms around him to keep him from running off. Way to play it cool, idiot.

"Okay, so I'm avoiding you a little," I sighed. "But it's not because of anything you did."

"Oh?" The way he raised his eyebrow suggested he thought I was lying, but he also hadn't tried to walk away yet. That was something. I released my tight grip on his arm and took his hand.

"Are we dancing, or what?" There were all sorts of answers that skittered across his face, but he finally nodded once and we were moving again, if a little awkwardly. "Okay, so, you were a bit of a challenge to get along with, but nothing permanently scarring." Hah, that _was_ a lie, but not for reasons he suspected. "Now you're…different. And it's just a bit strange." Strange because I keep expecting him to be someone else. Stranger still because my brain was slowly subduing that expectation. And now I had to constantly worry about letting something slip. "It's just taking some getting used to. I'm sorry if I make it a bigger deal than it is. You aren't the problem. I just…I worry I'm going to say something you don't remember and you'll think I'm totally nuts." That was actually mostly honest, which I think helped sell it. But I definitely wasn't going to look him in the eye again and risk screwing it all up. He did seem to be trying to light my forehead on fire with his own careful scrutinizing.

"If it's any consolation, I already think you're mad."

"Thanks, I feel better already." Actually, I did. But only because things were un-serious again. That was my safe zone.

"You _could_ always explain the things I don't recall." He suggested, like the bastard he was.

"Hah. I'd have to be _way_ more drunk for that."

"I'm sure that could be arranged." He said it so seriously that I did have to look at him to make sure he was kidding. He was. I'm almost positive.

"Nice try." I stuck out my tongue. Put me in fancy clothes and high society and I will still be a child. Part of my charm. "You could just give up. Your little information crusade."

"So could you." He looked rather smug. The one thing we had in common, apparently, was a dedication to being stubborn as mules. "I don't mean to upset you. I'm merely interested in learning what happened."

"You already know what happened. I _know _you know, because the Doctor's told you. And Donna. So I don't know why you think my version will be any different," Because it was. But there's no reason he should know that, or even suspect it. And it was going to stay that way, god dammit.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But there are certain details they may have missed."

"Puh-lease." I rolled my eyes. "This is the _Doctor_ we're talking about. He knows what kind of screws those Rhino looking things had on their spaceship-"

"The Judoon." He corrected, some flicker of confusion flashed across his face but I dismissed it.

"_Exactly_. My story is filled with made-up words and 'thingies' and 'some place'. It would be a nightmare. You might end up knowing less than you did before."

"I suppose you're right."

"I usually am." I said feeling quite pleased with myself. Starting to get good at lying to other people. Although, that's probably not something you're generally _supposed _to be proud of. Meh.

"That wasn't precisely what I wanted to ask about." He was making another one of those strange faces. One that I had no clue what it meant. Well, generally, I didn't know what any of them meant, but I had gotten good at recognizing his irritated face. This wasn't that. Of course, if I was even remotely savvy at reading people, I might take a stab at it and say nervous? Hesitant? No, I really wasn't. Savvy. It was a good word though.

"So…what did you want to ask about?"

"When we first met. You said we had been friends." Ah, right. _That_ day. Was still holding out hope that maybe he had forgotten all about that. You know, the part where I was crying, upset, and angry. Really angry. Maybe a little bit rude. Possibly _extremely_ rude. It had been a shitty day. But, guess he hadn't forgotten. Rats.

"Mm-hm?" There was no need to get more specific than that, right? Not even if he twisted my arm. Or threatened to shank me with that laser screwdriver of his. Not even to save all the manatees in the ocean. And I _liked_ manatees. Hell to the no.

"You don't strike me as someone I would be friends with."

"Gee. Thanks." It occurred to me maybe this incarnation of the Professor was just as socially clumsy as me. Wouldn't that be swell?

"Well, generally speaking, I'd assume I didn't have friends. But it was meant as a compliment."

"How did you envision me taking that as a compliment?" I wasn't really all that offended, but there was no way there was a positive spin on that.

"From what I've seen, you're a good person. Decent at the very least." Yowza. He really knew how to make a girl feel special. "And human." The way he said it made it a strike two. "Neither of those qualities are things I've held in much regard in the past. If what memories I've retained are to be believed."

Huh. Decent. And human. Two of the most mediocre things anyone had ever said about me. What an idiot.

"That still doesn't sound like a compliment. Actually, it sounds like you're insulting me. _Again_." Now was the time that my 'offended' alarms were starting to go off.

"That was not my intention." If I was worrying him, he wasn't showing it. He was like a robot in there, just wearing a skin suit to cover up all those gears that were inside. Starting to wish maybe I _would_ step on one of his feet. Would it be too obvious if I did it intentionally? "I was merely pointing out how unlikely-"

"Save it. Not interested in hearing any more of your _flattery_ today. Don't need to hear about how tedious the human race is. I already know."

"You're not tedious."

"You _are_ getting senile." I laughed but he only gave a tight smile. "What, no more probing questions?" I asked when he didn't respond.

"I believe you expressed an interest in me not continuing to do that."

"Since when did you care what I think?"

"Shortly after meeting you." That was a joke, not a very good joke, but- Wait. Why wasn't he smiling? Even a little? Was he being serious? My feet just kind of faltered and came to a stop. Maybe I had misheard him. Sure, that could be it. Because on a scale of one to ten, the odds of the Professor, much less the Professor who didn't really remember me, caring about what I thought were…well, there wasn't a number that low. They haven't _invented_ a number that low.

It was hard to think of other reasons why he might have said that because he was god damn staring at me.

_He said it because it's true. _Said the annoying cheerleader voice in my head. She would be the one jumping up and down with excitement. Yes, your opinion has been voiced, _shut up_. What was vastly more likely was that Jack was right. Maybe he was lying. Maybe this whole thing was just one elaborate scam to screw us all over.

Funny how the way he was looking at me didn't really _feel_ like a scam. But that just made it an effective one, right?

"I…" What the hell do you say to that? Nothing was coming to mind. No clever jokes. Nothing was _still _coming to mind as I stood there, pinned under his gaze. Did it just get like _really _hot in here? Someday soon I was going to master this whole teleporting thing, and then when awkward situations like this arose, I could just kind of disappear. Really looking forward to that. Because as it was, he was making it really hard to think.

Why? Did I care that he cared? This wasn't the Professor that I was still stupidly crushing on, the one I was still holding out hope that he might return. That hope was still there, somewhere. But it was sort of stashed away, like an afterthought. And if I was so not interested in _this_ Professor, why the hell was my heart pounding so hard right now?

Was…was he getting closer? Pretty sure the distance between our faces had halved while I was standing here, trying to think of _anything_ to say. I opened my mouth again, in the vain hope that some complete thought might magically come out. That was a mistake. His eyes flicked down and his head tilted slightly as he focused solely on my lips.

Wow. That was a lot of blood that just rushed up to my face. What is he doing? Don't be an idiot, you know _exactly_ what he's doing. Why am I not stopping him was the real question.

Are you kidding? Have you seen his eyes? Those cheekbones?

No, shut up. That's _really_ not helping.

I have to be the grown-up here. I can't let him do this because…well. I don't know. It's messed up. I'd figure out the details of exactly why later, but what was important, was that I couldn't let him do this _now_.

Did that mean I was going to let him later?

Jesus christ did I _ever_ need a mute button for myself.

"Hey, hello, sorry!" The Doctor bounced through the crowd and latched his hand onto my shoulder, stumbling to a halt. He looked out of breath and his eyes were wide as he darted his head around to see if he had been followed.

His timing was so great I wanted to kiss him.

Oh jesus. No. That is _not_ what I needed right now.

"Yes, wonderful. Found you two." He returned his attention to us, and if he had noticed anything peculiar about how close I had been to the Professor, he didn't mention it. "We need to get going, rather immediately I'm afraid."

"What? Why?" The Professor was back to his stoic self, and he had made sure to put a reasonable distance between the two of us, but the Doctor was just as oblivious as he had ever been.

"Well, I managed to run into a bit of an…old friend." He said, his face twisting around the word 'friend' sheepishly. "One of the Korven. Appears she's interested in pursuing more of a…well, a permanent relationship."

"Did you try politely declining?" Because if all he had tried was running and hiding, someone was getting slapped. And it was going to be him.

"Yes, well. The thing is, in Korven society, everything is quite matriarchal. As in, I've not got much say in the matter."

"Leave it to you to get involved with the species who insist on branding their mates." The Professor rolled his eyes, not amused by the Doctor's antics.

"Are you really trying to tell me that we have to leave the _only _nice place we've been in months because you can't deal with an ex-girlfriend? Really?" This was ridiculous, there was no way it was as bad as he was making it seem. And, dammit, this was the coolest place they had ever taken me. There was no way I was leaving just because the Doctor had the maturity of a thirteen year old.

"Yes. Sort of. Except what I'm actually telling you is that if my wife finds I've been tagged by a Korven, she'll kill me. And then…possibly the Korven race."

"Your _wife_?" That was news. Look at me, learning all sorts of things today.

"Yes. So, if we can-" He jerked his head once. "I promise, we'll go somewhere else equally lovely. Just…we need to be going."

"I seriously doubt your wife is going to go all genocidal because you were an _idiot_." Especially if she was his _wife_. She had to have known he was an idiot going into it, right?

The Doctor gave a strained smile as he pinched my chin. "Well, you've never met River Song. But let me assure you, she's done much more over much less."

Okay. So time lords take the whole 'marriage' thing seriously. And the Doctor was hitched to a total lunatic. Duly noted.

"DOCTOR?" A thick warbling voice carried over the crowd, not sounding remotely feminine. It sounded kind of like a freight train…and a blender, sort of mixed together.

"We need to leave!" The Doctor said as he ducked behind me, holding both my arms so I could serve as his own protective shield. "_Immediately_." He whispered with urgency as a large green sort of…woman creature swept past us in a full ball gown. Her ears looked a bit like an elephants, and actually, so did her limbs. Thick columns supporting an oddly slender torso. It probably made her extra sturdy, and good at crushing things. Like ex-boyfriends. Also, there were way too many horns coming out of her chin to be considered normal.

"DOCTOR! I'VE GOT US REFRESHMENTS FOR THE CEREMONY."

"Wow…she's…she's something else." I said as she was far out of earshot.

"I'll have you know she is an _exceptional_ dancer." The Doctor said defensively.

"Oh, I had no idea. Should I call her back over? Excuse me-" He clapped a hand over my mouth and his eyes darted around frantically.

"The TARDIS. _Now_." His said in a low voice as he dragged me along with him. The Professor, instead of offering any kind of useful assistance was actually standing there, _grinning_, while I was marched, headfirst, away from the dance floor. It didn't look anything like I expected. He looked younger, silly, and positively _human_.

I should have been mocking him mercilessly in my head. But that smile was having somewhat of the opposite effect on me.

God dammit. I never should have gotten back on this stupid ship.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Um. I'm being productive for no explicable reason. So...don't expect it to last. .**

**A/N 2: Ack! Sorry I forgot this was the Ailla part, which is random. *Edit of the edit* good lord. Forgot that ffnet would botch the link. I'll just copy past, shall I?**

**"__****Ailla** was the Master's companion and lover when he was still known as Koschei. While he believed her to be a human from the 28th century, she was actually an agent of the Celestial Intervention Agency sent to spy on him. When Ailla appeared regenerated[**statement** unclear] after Koschei had destroyed an entire planet to try to bring her back, it proved to be too much for him. Her betrayal and his murder of a planet was believed to have been the catalyst for turning Koschei into the Master, who sought to control the universe."  


**That should help, if you have any questions, or suggestions please let me know! Thank you Ahsilaa for bringing it to my attention!  
**

* * *

"Trouble?" The Professor appeared in the control room, glancing once in my direction, but I was definitely looking at the floor when he did. There was no avoidance going on here, no sir. I was just…checking on the glass, making sure nothing had cracked. Right? And maybe I had spent the rest of my time on the ship always within sight of Donna. Or the Doctor. Jack was noticeably absent, apparently all the immortality in the world wouldn't save you from a hangover if you still drank your body weight in liquor. Good to know. Still. Not avoiding. In fact, I was being extra social! It only took me two-ish decades to finally get around to it, but my mother would have been pleased anyway. Technically, that meant I hadn't spent any time with the Professor alone yet, but hey, that wasn't _intentional_. Okay. So it was. But how the hell was I going to breach that gap? What kind of conversation were we going to have? How about _no_ conversation? That makes it substantially less awkward, right? Besides, now there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Like what the hell was that horrible grinding noise the ship had just made? Which was followed by the shuddering sound of mechanical death? That sounded like a problem to me, even with my serious lack of knowledge on the care and feeding of a TARDIS.

"Er. We're not sure." The Doctor responded, not looking away from the typewriter that was frantically spitting out an endless roll of paper. He had been frowning ever since it started, which was probably a bad sign.

"That looks incomplete." The Professor glanced over the Doctor's shoulder. Even Donna was looking rather unhappy at the scanner screen. A room full of time lords and no one had a clue where the hell we had landed.

That was reassuring.

"It's not incomplete, that's all there is." The Doctor responded tonelessly as he circled the console and flicked a few switched. My eyes wandered to the door, the windows above it were remarkably bright. That meant we had to have landed somewhere, right?

"Well, what happened then?" The Professor pushed Donna from the scanner and started flipping through screens. She just rolled her eyes and leaned up against the console. Whatever it was he hoped he'd learn, he was also unsuccessful. Donna made sure to give him an 'I told you so' look, but that did nothing to improve his mood. "Doctor!" His voice snapped. The Doctor was kneeling by the typewriter again, trying to make some sense of the data that was pouring out of the machine.

"I don't know." He responded.

"What do you mean-"

"I _mean_," He stood, tearing the paper away from the typewriter and turning his attention to the Professor. "I don't know. We were in the Medusa Cascade, there was a star flare, but hardly anything that should have knocked us about. It barely registered on the scanner." He handed the paper over to the Professor who regarded it with a frown. "Look at this mess, have you seen anything like it before?"

"These aren't even real coordinates. There must be something wrong with the readings." He shook his head.

"_And_ the scanner?" Donna asked, raising her eyebrows. This was all totally beyond me so I wandered over to the doors. Maybe if I stood up on my toes I could see outside.

"Perhaps it's just _user_ error." The Professor said dryly without looking up.

"Oi, perhaps I'll just 'user error' my foot up your-"

"Donna. Not helping." The Doctor reminded her. It was so nice to see everyone getting along. Unfortunately, I wasn't tall enough to see outside. Maybe if I climbed up on the railing nearby, but the idea of doing that, and then falling like the clumsy idiot I was, just wasn't very appealing. Where as just _opening_ the door seemed like the better option. How long could you survive in space? I'd seen something about breathing out, slow and steady. Maybe thirty seconds? It'll be fine, besides, I wouldn't even have the door open that long, just a quick peek.

"These coordinates have to be wrong. They're implying that we're outside of the known universe. They look made up." The Professor sounded a little disgusted at the idea.

"Well, isn't that interesting…" The Doctor's voice was more excited than anything.

"Oh come on. You're not saying we're _outside_ the known universe." Donna huffed.

"Why not?" Glancing over my shoulder I could see the Doctor's grin growing wider at the prospect. What a nut-job.

"Well, that's _impossible_ is why!"

Impossible. Hah. The most meaningless word I'd ever learned. At least since I had met these goons. If you wanted to nail jello to a tree, then by golly, this damn machine would take us somewhere where it could happen. Actually, I suspected the TARDIS lay in wait, listening for us to say the word 'impossible' just so she could then ruin our frail reality.

Oh well, here goes nothing. Pulling the door open a crack, I started to breath slowly out, ready for the cold of space to slam into me. I was incredibly disappointed.

"Uh, guys." There was a reason it was so bright outside the windows. There was sunshine. And sand. Water too. All sorts of boring things that weren't very spacey.

"Blimey! Fitz, what are you doing?" The Doctor barked as he sprinted over, but there didn't seem to be any immediate danger, so I just opened it wider.

"It's fine. Just a beach." I said with a shrug.

"Oh. Yes…it does seem to be that…" His tongue poked out thoughtfully. "Good work. Just…in the future though. I would avoid opening the door like that. Vacuums in space and such. It can be a bit of a mess when the TARDIS is being wonky."

"It's fine, I was gonna shut it if there was anything bad." Please. Treating me like a child. I think I could handle a spaceship.

"Well…" The Doctor brushed his hair back from his face with a nervous smile. "Yes, except…that wouldn't really work because you would have been sucked out immediately."

"But it was hardly open…" I was starting to think maybe I didn't have such a great handle on my personal safety.

"Which is why you would have experienced life as a pasta noodle very briefly before dying."

Okay. So…don't touch the doors. Ever again. Check.

"But!" He clapped his hands together and gave me a reassuring pat on the back. "We're at the beach! So you're not dead! Isn't that lovely. Come on, there's bound to be something new and exciting out there." He said with a grin as he threw the door open wide and stepped outside.

"Or a giant time lord eating goblin with _really _big teeth." My optimism about being safe had kind of been diminished by the whole thought of being spaghetti and then dying.

"Honestly, you needn't bother to say things if you're only going to repeat me." He smirked as his boots started to sink into the white sand. Some days, I forgot my traveling companions were stark raving lunatics. This was _not_ one of those days. Followed him out anyway, because, hey, I had nearly gotten myself killed once today, why stop there? Plus, it was only a beach. That was pretty low on my 'worry about' scale. Solid ground that separated me from the water was really all I needed to stay happy.

It wasn't really what I was expecting though. We were on a fairly large island, but I could see where the shores curved in, suggesting it wasn't big enough that we couldn't cross it in a day. The palm trees weren't really palm trees, but oak trees, with black bark. The leave shimmered in the bright light and kind of made them a pain in the ass to look at. What was really upsetting the whole 'normal beach' thing, was the water. It was very black, not very ocean-like at all. No waves crashing on the sand, in fact, it hardly moved. There was a queasy feeling in my stomach that made me want to stay as far away from it as possible.

"Well, it's not the tropics, but I suppose it'll do." Donna shrugged as she exited the TARDIS and took a look around. "S'pose they've got people here to bring me those drinks with the little umbrellas in them?"

"I'm sure Jack would be happy to." I muttered, but apparently she heard, because I got a light slap in the back of my head. Oops. "Sorry." I said with a grin. Though it faded somewhat when her sharp gaze flicked toward the Professor who was just leaving the TARDIS. Whatever teasing I could subject Donna to, she could do so much worse.

"This doesn't really look like a beach." I said, trying to keep Donna from filling the silence.

"Well that's because it isn't a beach." The Doctor said as he ran some of the sand through his fingers. "It is, but it isn't. Look familiar to anyone?" Had to assume he wasn't talking to me, because, no, it really didn't.

"Yes," the Professor was the one who responded, which was a bit of a surprise. "Though I'm not sure why…"

"Gallifrey." The Doctor said with a sad smile. "The islands north of the academy. They took us here just before the Untempered Schism." Some flicker of recognition passed across the Professor's face, but if he really remembered, or just knew it _should_ be familiar, I had no idea.

"But how is it Gallifrey? I mean…Gallifrey is gone." Donna's voice was broken just like the Doctor's when he spoke about it.

"It's not Gallifrey. Not really. But it was made to look-"

"Hands on your head!" A woman came running from the shade of the black trees, a weapon in her hands aimed directly at my head. She was tall and dressed like some kind of paratrooper. But whatever uniform she was wearing, she had been wearing it a while, because it was littered with stains and tears. Mostly though, I was focused on the gun. And her magnificent blonde hair.

"Oh _guns_. How original." The Doctor muttered. "Do as she says." It was impressive how much contempt he had managed to stuff into so few words.

"Slowly turn around, and head back to the ship." She said as a man appeared at her side, also armed, and putting Jack to shame with his hard muscles rippling beneath dark skin. He looked like he could crack a walnut just by thinking hard enough in its direction. "Go on." She had gotten close enough to give me a shove. I hadn't started to move yet, because I was briefly mesmerized by the man's clear green eyes. Now was probably not a good time to be appreciating him as a perfect physical specimen.

"How's 'I told you so' sound?" I asked the Doctor as I marched next to him back into the ship.

"You said they'd have big teeth." He replied petulantly.

"No talking." She nudged the Doctor with the butt of her weapon and we both fell silent. Once we were inside, she watched us wearily and then nodded to her buddy to keep an eye on us while she shut the doors, and then made sure they were locked securely. Several times. Paranoid much? "When are you from?" She asked as she spun back around, keeping the gun leveled at us.

"That's a bit personal, don't you think? Why don't you put that down and explain what exactly you're running from?"

"An army." She snapped. "Now answer the-" She stopped very suddenly and frowned at the Doctor, like she was just finally seeing him properly. Or maybe she had just noticed the bow tie. "I _know_ you…"

"Just got one of those faces." He shrugged, which was hard to do with our hands still attached firmly to the top of our heads. Her gaze flicked over the rest of us, one by one, but she only stopped once. And then she kind of stalled, the color draining from her face. She had a haunted look in her blue eyes like she had seen a ghost, and she was staring right at my shoulder…

"Koschei?" She whispered sharply. The name was a razor right in my gut. So not my shoulder, _behind_ my shoulder.

"Yes?" He sounded unsure.

"Oh thank Rassilon," She let out a startled laugh, pushing past me and threw her arms around the bewildered looking Professor.

Thank _Rassilon_? If I hadn't already disliked her for threatening me with a gun, or being _incredibly_ familiar with the Professor, I sure did now. No. I _hated_ her. His arms dropped awkwardly, clearly having no idea who she was. He didn't seem to be interested in hugging her back, which, face it, was the only thing I was really paying close attention to. I almost missed the fact that he was reaching into his pocket until I saw the Doctor shake his head sharply. Was there a part of me that was secretly pleased he was trying to get a weapon while our captors were otherwise occupied? I'd say no, but then I'd be lying. Suddenly the reason I always fall for the screwed up ones makes more sense when I realize that I am also irrevocably screwed up.

"Koschei? What's wrong?" She finally stepped back, though her arms stayed wrapped over his shoulders.

"Have we met?" He asked in a clipped tone. Maybe he could try being a little nicer to the woman with the gun. Secretly, or not so secretly, I didn't want him to be any nicer. Also, I wanted to go ahead and put another foot or two of distance between them.

I had the feeling that would make things more awkward than they needed to be so I stayed put.

"It's me…Ailla…" When that did nothing to convince him she turned her confused gaze to the rest of us, like we had any answers. The smile had faded from her face, slowly being replaced with anguish. It suddenly was brought to my attention how gaunt she looked, and how deep and dark those circles under her eyes were. Almost enough to make me feel bad for her. _Almost_.

"Ailla." The Doctor said softly. "Sorry, it's been a while. I'm afraid he's had a rather rough regeneration. He…he doesn't remember Darkheart."

"What?" She blinked, turning toward the Doctor. "It's alright Rhysik." She gestured to her companion. "They're friends. Doctor. I'm sorry, with the war it's been…" she shook her head, holstering her weapon on her hip. "It's hard to know who to trust." With the weapons being lowered, I felt fairly confident I could stop holding my hands over my head. Which was good, because my arms were starting to hurt.

"The _war_?" The Doctor said with a frown. "Ailla, the war is…it's over."

"Maybe for you." She said grimly. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you two traveling together any time soon." She nodded over her shoulder at the Professor who was still lost as to what was going on. Good, that made the two of us.

"Yes, we've done our best to move on. Though he's having trouble remembering it." The Doctor pulled a face.

"Amnesia?" She asked and the Doctor nodded. "Well," she turned back to the Professor and smiled. "I suppose that will give us a fresh start, won't it love?"

_Pet names_? First, she was using his secret sexy time name, and now she was giving him a _pet_ name? My fists tightened at my sides.

"_Sorry_?" It was a relief to hear how displeased he sounded about it.

"Don't worry," she pinched the bottom of his chin affectionately. "You and me go way back. I'll be happy to catch you up just as soon as we get out-" The grin melted off her face and she raced to the console. "Oh of _course_." She barked something in a language I didn't understand, but from how furious her face was, and the way she smashed her fist into the console, I imagined it was cursing. "It's too late."

"Oi! Watch the hardware." Donna had taken a step forward when she had struck the ship. Hell, _I_ had taken a step forward. Who the hell just starts smacking around other peoples friends…who happened to be spaceships. _And_ calling people 'love'? She was one bad move away from learning what the front of my fist tasted like.

"What exactly is too late?" The Doctor asked.

"They've already got the vortex." Ailla wasn't looking at the Doctor, she was looking at Rhysik. Funny how bad I was with names, but I had managed to pick up on the male model's. "We're trapped."

"I'm sorry, who's got the vortex?"

"The army." Ailla ran her hand through her short hair, exasperated. "The army _we_ raised for the war."

"Meanwhile's and Neverwere's." The Doctor said in a tight voice. Why did that sound vaguely familiar? "How can they be here? This is the Matrix, isn't it?"

"Here?" Rhysik spoke for the first time and his voice was a deep booming timbre. "This is their prison. The souls of those who have been Unwritten have always returned to the Matrix."

"But they were released." The Doctor's face had gone stony. "They were pardoned so long as they fought for Gallifrey. Why are they still _here_?" He marched directly up to Rhysik, looking like a formidable match despite the fact that his neck was probably half the width of the man's arms.

"I do not question the Lord President. He gives commands, and I obey."

"It doesn't matter." Ailla had crossed the room, placing her hand on the Doctor's shoulder and pulling him back. "They were too dangerous to be released."

"How can you know that?" He turned on her and I felt myself shrinking. The Doctor's fury was not something I wanted to be in direct line of any time soon.

"Ships started vanishing. Ships nowhere near battle. We came to investigate. There were six of us when we arrived." Ailla's throat flexed and I realized she couldn't keep speaking. That probably meant the other four weren't just off in the jungle hanging out, they were _dead_. She cleared her throat once and continued. "We need to get that time vortex back, or we'll be waiting a long time for another ship to drop by."

The Doctor shot a nervous glance at Donna. "Longer than you might think," he said with a broken smile. "So. Obviously we need to get the TARDIS put back together. Then we can _discuss_," he leveled both Rhysik and Ailla with a stern glare. "The matter of the Meanwhile's and Neverwere's. Now then, where would a time vortex go on say, a desert island?"

"The mainland. That's where they'll have taken it. That's where they take all of them." Ailla answered with certainty. So then, _across_ the water outside. I was already not liking the direction this was headed. At all.

"All of them? What could they possibly do with multiple time vortexes?" The Doctor scowled.

"They want to break open the Matrix." Ailla gave an alarming smile. The kind that screamed 'you really don't want that to happen'. Maybe, at this point, I should just go hide in my room and I can avoid all of this bad mojo. When I came back, they'd have everything sorted. Yeah. Was that being a tad too naive? Probably. That was the beauty of not giving a damn. "They want to get out, and spread. It won't just be Gallifrey, it'll be everywhere. Doctor, we've got to get the TARDIS out, and…we have to destroy them."

"What?" He looked as though he had just been socked in the stomach. "How? How can you say that? They were _living_ people. _Our_ people! How can you just decide that you're going to eradicate them like they're _vermin_?" His voice had gotten so loud that when he stopped, it echoed in the control room.

"If they ever were our people, they ceased to be a long time ago. They're not even people anymore. They're just…weapons. If you want to get out of here alive, we're going to have to fight our way through them."


	9. Chapter 9

Two days. We had spent two days just waiting on the TARDIS. Knowing there were people out there, or what _used_ to be people, ready to kill us. I'd asked Rhysik what exactly they were and he mentioned that they had been the very worst of the criminals. People who had murdered so many, and destroyed so much, that they weren't just imprisoned, they were _erased_. Someone came along and plucked them out of time itself. And locked them all _here_.

But it wasn't just that, because when the time war came, the time lords tried to hone them into pure fighting machines.

Who would have thought that would come back to bite them in the ass.

Ailla said we only had about a week to get the time vortex back. A week, and then it would be too late. We'd never get back home. Well, Ailla and Rhysik would probably still have hope, but the rest of us knew the truth. There _weren't_ any more passing TARDIS' that could fly by, because they were all _dead_.

Not only that, but as the week dragged on, the TARDIS would grow weaker. Right now it would keep us safe, but tomorrow? Who knew? Soon the doors that kept all the monsters out would be nothing more than wood. Brittle, blue painted wood.

And we were just going to sit here. Waiting for it to happen. Because we didn't have any other choice.

Apparently, days in the Matrix weren't like Earth days. We had landed in bright sunshine, but it had already vanished an hour after we arrived. The sun hadn't come back since. The Unwritten, as Rhysik liked to ominously refer to them, were strongest in the dark. They had trouble with the direct sunlight. They were freaking _vampires_. I was stranded outside of the universe with an army of criminally insane vampires that wanted to kill us all.

I'd had better days.

So we were waiting. Waiting for the sun to come back up so we could cross the ocean in the 'daylight'. The ocean where most of the creatures slept. The ocean that was filled with unnatural black silt, looking spooky as all hell.

The good news was that I wasn't having nightmares. The bad news was that I wasn't having nightmares because I was incapable of getting any sleep. I'd accumulated two hours last night, and it hadn't been much better the night before. Which is why it was some ungodly hour in the morning and I was sitting in our bright yellow kitchen staring blankly into the cup of tea I had made for myself.

It tasted like crap.

Still, somewhere along the way, I had decided that tea was useful for calming me down. It would have probably helped if I had ever learned how to make it properly, but that wasn't really my fault because _someone_ had always insisted on making it for me. Couldn't very well ask for his help, because he'd think I was insane. Or more insane than usual.

Still, it would lead to questions. Questions I was even _less_ eager to answer now that we had met the radiant, and very capable, Ailla. It was nice to meet old companions of the 'Master's'. Nice in the way that I was considering opening the doors to the TARDIS and taking my chances with the vampires. What redeeming qualities could I ever possess that could come even close to competing with this woman? My strangeness? Something told me that didn't really qualify.

She had fought in a war, she was part of a sophisticated time lord government organization. She was _brilliant_. And she had been fighting off fucking vampires for _years_ in this place.

What had that idiot ever seen in _me_? An easy target? Sure, beat yourself up. That will make everything much better. Moron.

My lack of sleep was clearly making me grouchy. And the fact that it was the morning. And my stupid bitter tea, and waking up queasy. Everything was stupid and I hated it.

"Hey there!"

Speaking of things to be miserable about.

Ailla came striding into the kitchen, a broad smile stretched across her beautifully tanned face. She looked like one of those damned morning people. "How are you today? What was it again, Fist?" She tilted her head to the side charmingly. Two days. We had been here two damn days and she still didn't know my name. Probably because Princess Bubbles had spent most of her time reminiscing with the Professor.

Wonder how charming she'd look if I popped my _fist_ into those pretty teeth of hers.

Gah. Even _I _was starting to worry myself with attitude. Impending doom and lack of sleep was really wearing down my toleration of anything that wasn't to my liking. Besides, she'd probably look just as lovely with a few missing teeth. People would say it gave her 'character'.

"It's Fitzgerald." I corrected her in as pleasant a tone I could muster. She opened the cabinets and found a mug instantly, like she had lived on this ship her entire life. It _still_ took me thirty minutes to find anything I was searching for, and I was pretty sure the TARDIS _liked_ me. Relatively.

"Oh, what an interesting name!" The worst part was that she sounded completely sincere. Who was she? Some kind of Disney princess? How was that even remotely fair?

"Thanks." I said blandly, watching her produce a kettle from who knew where. Well, _she_ knew, of course. Because she was _perfect_. From her dark blue eyes to that edgy blonde pixie cut that I could never hope to pull off in a thousand years. Already, I was making a pros and cons list about the benefits of just lighting myself on fire at this point. Her beverage of choice, coffee, was ready in less than a minute. Then she came to sit at the table across from me.

So. Not going back to her room to leave me in peace.

_Awesome_.

"So Fitzgerald," she said my name like we were suddenly best friends. "What's the deal with Koschei?"

Maybe now would be a good time to just pour the scalding tea over my face just to get it over with.

Because of _course_ she knew his name. His 'secret' name. It also wasn't hard to guess _why_. Not that it wasn't blatantly obvious just from looking at her. Why they had split up, I had no idea. I mean, who would ever leave _her_?

I shrugged, trying to choke down more of my tea. I bet her coffee tasted like caramel and sunshine. God damn her.

"Well," she sighed, oblivious to my desire _not_ to talk. "It's just so strange. He doesn't recognize me at all. I thought all that time we spent together would have left _some_ impression." She seemed genuinely upset by the idea and let me tell you, I knew the feeling. There should have been some decency within me that made it possible to sympathize with her. Unfortunately, it was buried under my overwhelming urge to throw my drink at her.

I resisted, but only because I knew if I _did _throw it at her, I'd have to explain myself. And then she would be the sympathetic one. Probably completely understanding and apologetic. And then we would _hug_.

Plus, if I were being totally honest, she could probably take me. In a heartbeat. I'm not sure she'd even have to break a sweat to lay me out. Not that someone like Ailla _would _sweat. No, she would _glisten_. Or _glow_.

Seriously, stop clenching the mug so hard. You're going to give yourself carpal tunnel. Easy girl, _easy_.

"I guess the regeneration didn't go smoothly." That was an understatement. Not to mention it had been _my_ fault. Well, and his. But mostly mine, it was _my_ brain the parasitic time lord had decided to attach itself to. And me, the Professor, in his infinite idiocy, had chosen to save.

We didn't need to get into that.

"I heard about Rassilon." She swallowed, shaking her head. Genuinely upset, _again_. All I could do was be petty about how cute she was. Oh self loathing, how I've missed you. "It's so amazing, what you did. Thank you," she reached out and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Really, I'm glad you could save him." Again with the sincerity. She was killing me, on the inside. "Actually, you probably saved a lot of people."

"No problem." Yep, I had definitely done it for the universe at large and not my own selfish reasons. Totally.

"I've been talking to him the last couple days, trying to help him." Oh, _help_ him. Is that what that was? "Nothing has really triggered for him, it must be frustrating." It was really reassuring to know they were spending so much time together trying to trigger memories about what awesome fun times they used to have together.

"Probably."

"So," she said with a coy grin. "What was he like before?" Suddenly we were just girlfriends, chatting about boys. If I hadn't already been nauseous, I would have started then.

"He was shorter." She was so warm and friendly. Couldn't she understand that I just wanted to sit there and glare at her? Why was she trying to make that so difficult. I sighed. "He was blond too. More sturdy looking." Devilishly handsome grin, though I was going to keep that to myself. My thoughts drifted back to the concert, the way those icy blue eyes had pierced straight through me. That wasn't to say he _wasn't_ handsome now…

"Oh, I love blonds." She laughed. "That's too bad, we could have had some fun. Though, I suppose we still could. He always was an excellent kisser." She chewed her lip, staring into space. My cheeks were starting to burn when she finally looked back and burst into laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry. I suppose you don't really want to know about that."

I offered a thin smile. See? See how civil I was being? None of the obscene words I was thinking about her had crossed my lips.

"Unless…you already _know_?" Her grin turned conspiratorial for a moment, but she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I was just teasing. Not really his type anyway."

My outward appearance was still _mostly_ civil, but my thoughts had deteriorated into a fantasy where I was just smashing my cup over her pretty little nose over and over until it was crooked on her pretty face. That was a little dark, even for me. But maybe I could just hit her _once_. Just to get her to shut up.

"I mean, not that there's anything wrong with you." She added sweetly, possibly because she could sense the waves of hostility rolling off me. "It's just that you're human."

Oh lord, give me strength.

"He was sort of put off…well. Anyway. That's not really important. You got a guy back home?" I couldn't blame her for trying to change the subject after she had buried herself so deeply in the last one, it was just too bad she hadn't picked a _good_ topic.

"Nope." Didn't even bother smiling that time. I had hit my quota for polite smiles for the year.

"Oh. Well. That's okay," she shrugged. "Might want to get on that sooner rather than later. You humans don't stay young forever." She winked, like the fact that my limited lifetime compared to hers was so absurd it was a cute joke. "Oh! I know, when we get out of here, I'll take you down to the bars at Gamma-Ultra. It's a huge thirtieth century military base. Everyone loves a man in uniform, right?" There was that disarming smile of hers, trying to convince me we were somehow friends. That would be just what I needed, Barbie as a wingman. So everyone could see how fantastically plain I was in comparison. That was _bound_ to cheer me up about being single.

"Morning." The Professor arrived, just in time to complete my hell-tastic morning. He was wearing a dark burgundy shirt that probably closely matched the color of my face, and a pair of trousers that matched his black tie. We were in some kind of _un_universe with bloodthirsty monsters banging at the door, and _this_ was his casual dress. Of course, he looked ridiculously good in them. Probably showing off for his _girlfriend_.

"Morning Koschei," Ailla beamed at him from the table. I merely grunted. Spending my morning with Miss Wonderful wasn't great, but spending it with the _both _of them was enough to make me wish I had just stayed in my room and stared at the wall for a few hours.

"Please, call me Professor." He smiled thinly as he walked toward us. Okay, so maybe he _had_ improved the morning somewhat. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from full on grinning, that would probably be poor form. Ailla, of course, hardly looked ruffled. Though her smile did diminish, ever so slightly.

Try not to get too much enjoyment out of that you sick bastard.

"Ah, sweetheart. You've made us tea. Excellent." I frowned, that couldn't have been him that just said that, could it? My head turned sharply. Yes, it _had_ been him. He was also much closer than I thought, now hovering just above my shoulder with his hand on the back of my chair.

Wait, was he talking to _me_?

Was this some kind of insomnia induced hallucination? It…it all _seemed_ real. In fact, if I had been hallucinating, I was pretty sure this cup of tea wouldn't be so crappy. It occurred to me to ask him what the _hell _he was talking about when he leaned down and caught my stunned mouth with his own.

It lasted less than a second but it felt like my whole body had suddenly lit itself on fire.

"Thank you dear," He rumbled somewhere close to my ear. I shivered. There was a smirk pulling at his lips when he stood up and I couldn't be sure whether the urge to slap him, or grab a handful of his hair and pull him forward, was stronger. He picked up my mug and sipped from it once, watching Ailla expectantly over the rim. That's when I remembered, a little belatedly, that we'd had an audience.

She opened her mouth once, twice. Looked from me to the Professor and back again. Boy, she really was much prettier when her eyes weren't bulging out of her skull. Of course, my mouth was probably still hanging open too.

"Well," she said in a high voice. "It was great chatting with you Fitzgerald. I'll just go see what they're up to in the control room." She took her coffee as she stood and nodded politely to us both before making a hasty retreat from the kitchen.

"Augh. This is rubbish." He sniffed at the tea when she was gone. "Who taught you how to brew?" He wandered over to the counter and set to work as he dumped my attempt into the sink.

Had he said something? I was still struggling to get my heart out of my throat and back into my chest where it belonged. Didn't really matter what he had said, because I was completely incapable of responding to it. Because, what the _hell_ just happened? I should really be outraged. At least a little.

Where the _hell_ was my outrage?

Maybe it was just delayed, because of the shock. Yes. I'm sure it'd be along shortly. I'll just wait here for it. Trying to remember how to breathe. Any minute now.

"I apologize if that was forward," he said as he seated himself across from me, setting down two steaming cups of tea. How long had I been sitting here trying to breathe? "She was being terribly _rude_."

"You were _listening_ to us?" My annoyance at being spied on was what finally got my brain functioning again. Thank god for _that_.

"Well, it's been in my experience that when a mysterious woman appears who knows all about you, the only way to get information is to eavesdrop." He raised his eyebrow at me. Ouch. That hurt a bit. "Her voice carries rather well in the TARDIS, I only caught the tail end of it."

"I don't know _all_ about you." As far as excuses went, that one was pretty pathetic. Maybe I didn't know everything, but I did know _some_ things, and I was deliberately withholding them.

"I'm sorry," he said in a gentler tone. "I only meant that as a joke."

"It's fine." I plastered a smile on my face because I was a trooper. It _wasn't_ really fine, but only because it was a fair point to make.

"So," he leaned back in his chair, eyeing me intently. My eyes stayed fixed on my tea because that seemed like the safest option. "Was she right?"

"About what?" He had to be talking about Ailla, but I honestly couldn't remember much from our conversation. Other than what had just short-circuited my brain, all I remembered was feeling like a worthless slug and struggling with my seriously overwhelming urge to reach across the table and smack her. And then feeling badly about wanting to. The details of _why_ were already a little fuzzy. When I glanced up at him, there was something familiar in his eyes. That same asshole smuggery he used to wear.

"Am I still a good snog?" He asked the same way he might have asked if his tie was crooked. And yet, his eyes were _definitely _laughing at me. The edge of his mouth just curling enough that I knew he had found my dumbstruck reaction amusing. I had to look away quickly as I felt even more blood rush to my face. At this rate, I was going give myself a nosebleed.

"Well," I scoffed. "It's not like you can really gauge on _that_." Trying to be nonchalant. But my brain was all over the place and being a real bitch about cooperating.

"Did you _want_ more to go on?" Now his voice was laughing at me too.

_Yes_.

"No." I said quickly. "I'm sure you know what you're doing." That was all he was getting out of me, and I was definitely not looking him in the eye again. That was to be avoided at all costs. Forever. I sipped at my tea instead, trying to look disinterested.

"You don't seem very surprised. Is it possible we've done that before?"

"Gurk." Was the last thing I said before sucking a mouthful of the scalding beverage into my lungs. I coughed so hard that tears were in my eyes. Leave it to me to drown on dry land. More importantly, this wasn't good. This can't _look_ good.

"Are you going to be alright?" He asked hesitantly.

I nodded, blinking back tears. "Fine." I croaked, still sputtering to clear my throat. "Hotter than I expected." That was _such_ a lie. A stupid one too, since he had the same drink sitting right in front of him. He glanced at it suspiciously. "Thanks though, it's delicious." I stood up, stifling back another cough. If I could just make the door, there was hope of escaping with a shred of my dignity still intact.

"Don't patronize me, you don't _like_ tea." He smirked, guess he wasn't as dumb as he looked. But his arm shot out, grabbing my arm before I could step away from the table. When I looked back to glare, I realized he wasn't looking at me, he was frowning, his forehead crinkled in concentration. It was the same look I got when I tried to remember where I had left my keys.

"I'm branching out." That's when it hit me what was wrong. My throat went dry as his eyes slid back to mine and trapped me there.

_He_ didn't know I hated tea. That had been a conversation with another man.

"Why- how do I know that?" He stood up, very suddenly in my personal space again. If he was going to make a habit of this, I was going to have to start enforcing some kind of boundaries, because the capillaries on my face could _not_ handle this much action in a day.

"I dunno, something I said? I'm always talking." Or rambling. Same thing. Besides, who could say for sure I _hadn't_ mentioned it at some point? Especially since I knew him to be an eavesdropping ninja.

Well. _I_ knew. If that lead weight in my gut was any clue.

"I don't like tomatoes either. See? Now you're learning all sorts of things about me."

"Fitzgerald," he said in a warning tone, the look in his eyes was desperate. It wasn't just the tea. Something was bouncing around in his head, trying to breach the fog that had settled in his mind. My not wanting to be there when it happened was directly related to the fact that I had the feeling I wasn't going to like it. "I've been having- Who _are_ you?"

"Still…just me." I shrugged. If he stared at me any harder, he was going to drill a hole through the back of my head. "Are you feeling okay? Cause you're kinda hurting my arm." His grip _had_ gotten weirdly tight, but it was more my needing to step back so there might be space to breathe than from any pain I could feel.

"Yes, of course. Sorry." He shook his head, releasing my arm. Whatever had been rattling in his head was gone. "I apologize." So sorry he had to say it twice? Too bad the apology didn't really solve my distance problem, and neither of us moved. In my defense, my limbs were pretty much jelly at this point and I'm not sure they were up to taking commands just yet.

"Fitz, you bout ready to practice shoot- Oh." Jack stopped in the doorway, looking between me and the Professor. He didn't bother disguising the smirk on his lips. "If you two are busy…I can come back-"

"No." I said quickly, glad for an excuse to look away from those piercing eyes. It was easy to forget the likelihood of my death when boys were involved, but Jack had promised to teach me how to fire his gun. No, not _that gun. _Jesus, get your mind out of the gutter. "I'm ready to go. Thank-" I turned back to the Professor only to remember that he was _still_ way too close. Sure, the guy who made sure he distanced himself like I had the plague any time we were within shouting distance of someone suddenly had no regard for personal bubble space. "Thanks for the tea."

Shooting would help take my mind off things. Things like the way he was still staring at me. Or the way my stomach was coiled up all tight. Or how his warm lips had felt pressed against-

No. Stop it. That's not what we were thinking about. Furniture. Shoe polish. Shooting. Killer vampires.

Definitely _not_ what it would feel like to run my hands through that thick hair of his.

_Dammit._

Okay, starting now.

"So uh, what's going on back there?" Jack mumbled as we walked down the hall. I was making the fastest beeline of my life to get anywhere that _wasn't_ the kitchen.

"Shut up, Jack."

"Yes ma'am."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Holy cow. Sorry for the delay. I got behind, and then. Well. GISHWHES. So, yeah. There's that, but look, an update! Huzzah!**

* * *

"It's…well, it's probably best if you just _don't_ aim near anyone you don't plan on shooting." Jack said with a shrug as he inspected my handiwork. Of the five targets he had put out, all of them had holes. But then so did the wall behind them. And there might be a couple that were lodged in the floor. So, anything directly in front of me had pretty good odds of feeling the wrath of my aim. Which would be all well and good until someone who _wasn't _a killer time lord decided to walk into my path. Or really, even remotely _near_ my path. It would be a good idea to stay out of my way. Better yet, stay out of my way by at least a hundred feet.

"I'll keep that in mind." There was some annoyance there, but it was hard to be too angry with him since it was sound advice. At least I was doing fairly well for having only learned how to take the safety off no more than a few hours ago. Not well enough to give me any confidence, or remote hope, that I'll be prepared for any possible fighting we run into. So I guess 'fairly well' was relative. Maybe if I'd wasted my time playing video games I might actually be a little better prepared for this. Not only that, but the whole right side of my body was starting to ache. The gun was more weight than I had lifted since high school, and the struggle to keep the recoil from hitting me in the face was much harder than it looked.

Overall, it hadn't really been my favorite.

But look at the bright side, I knew how to shoot. I just needed better aim. And consistency. Really, there was improvement needed in all the skills you would want with a person carrying a gun. The odds of shooting myself in the foot continued to lurk around the 'almost certain' mark. The longer I think about it, the more it seems like it's smarter to side with the Doctor on this one. _No guns_. But the army waiting outside made me less certain. So did the fact that they stood between me and the possibility of ever getting home again.

It was a toss-up, but one that ultimately sided with Jack and _weapons_. No one said that I'd have to actually _use_ it. No, it'll just come along, safe and sound in my pocket. No aiming, or firing. It'll just kind of…be there. For insurance. Or in case we ran into any pig men who felt like they should help rearrange my face for me.

Sure. My temper and a gun.

There was no way that could _possibly_ go wrong.

"Mind if we join you?" Ailla stood at the edge of the tennis courts we were using, Rhysik at her shoulder. "We brought refreshments." She held up a few brown bottles that could only be beer. It was almost enough to make me legitimately glad to see her.

"A lady as lovely as you is _always_ welcome," Jack grinned. "And your friend ain't bad either." He winked at Rhysik, who looked more confused than anything. Apparently he had never heard of Jack's 'flirt first and ask about sexual preferences later' policy. Which was a surprise, because at this point, I assumed everyone in the _universe_ had. That also meant that poor Rhysik had no idea how effective that technique usually was. Good luck you beautiful sculpted god, you're gonna to need it.

"Thanks," Ailla smiled, handing out the bottles that were refreshingly cool. Jack intercepted my bottle and cracked it open, which was a relief, since who the hell brought a bottle opener to a shooting lesson? "How's it going Fitzgerald?"

She caught me a bit off guard because I was fully expecting the grow-ups to discuss important matters while I just drank their booze, but apparently she wanted to make an effort, so now I had to be polite.

"You can just call me Fitz," the last thing I needed was another reminder of my mother on this ship. She smiled genuinely, like it was a big deal and I started to feel even worse about that stunt the Professor had pulled this morning. She had said rude things, but she probably hadn't really meant them that way. And the Professor had showed up and made her feel like an idiot, a feeling I was intimately familiar with. Which is why there was no earthly reason I should ever want to inflict it on someone else. Even if they _were_ obnoxiously beautiful. Somewhere in my burnt husk of a heart, the roar of my jealousy dimmed. "It could be going better. Apparently, I'm not much of a marksman. Or woman. Or whatever you'd call that." All political correctness aside, I suck.

"Ah, practicing for tomorrow. Ready for the trip?" She almost made it sound like we were going camping instead of to our possible deaths. Probably didn't want to cause the human to panic. Nice of her to try.

Thinking about tomorrow made me want to burst into laughter and cry at the same time.

"Not really." Was the most balanced response I could manage. The reality was that the shooting, or the monsters outside, weren't even the half of it. There was still that ocean. That one that looked like some kind of black sea sludge just waiting for me to approach before it dragged me to a watery grave. That's the part that was making me seriously reconsider my life choices. At this point, I'd rather throw myself off a tall building, onto a pile of rusty knifes, surrounded by a pack of wild dogs who were waiting to pick over my broken body. At least, that's what I'd prefer if there _was_ any other option to waking up tomorrow and climbing into one of those stupid boats. That seemed like an awkward direction to take the conversation, so I left it at 'not really'.

"It'll be alright." Ailla patted me on the shoulder, like I hadn't told myself that about a thousand times today. It didn't make any impression coming from her either, but maybe she gets some credit for trying. "So…" she cleared her throat. "You and the Professor are together?"

"What? No. No. Definitely not. No." It had been a little overly optimistic to hope she'd never bring up that morning. Which is really too bad, because I was working under the assumption that if no one ever mentioned it again, I could pretend it never happened. So much for that. Jack started to whistle an innocent tune and retreated to the far side of the courts, possibly to set up more targets. Or just so I couldn't see the faces he was making at my expense. Rhysik had taken an interest in the weapons Jack had left laying about. It _could_ have gotten more humiliating, but not by a whole lot.

"Fitz, it's alright." Her smile was just strained enough to know that it probably _wasn't _alright. "I saw how you were. It's great, really. I'm glad." It wasn't hard to spot that the extra cheer she was putting into the conversation was killing her.

"Really, it's not what you think." What it _was_ exactly, was sort of difficult to explain.

"We're both adults. He kissed you and called you 'sweetheart'. It's not that hard to interpret."

Ah, yes. That would be all the blood in my body rushing to my face.

"Okay. That looked- Seriously. We're not together. _At all_. Not even…He was kidding." That was a fairly reasonable explanation, which was a nice surprise. "He's just got a…weird sense of humor."

"Oh." The frown she wore suggested she didn't quite believe me. But there was also no reason to make something like that up.

"So you are unattached?" Rhysik's question startled me because I hadn't realized he was paying attention again. Maybe he had never stopped lurking, and why the hell would he want to know?

"Uh. Yeah." I shot him a glance and realized those bright eyes of his were locked pretty securely on my own. They were also _way_ too intimidating to watch for long, and yet I couldn't look away. Reminded me of someone _else_ I knew.

"That is good to know." He said, his lips parting in a warm smile. A frighteningly _good_ smile. The kind that might just charm the pants off someone. Not me, no. Totally not me. This silly grin that was plastering itself across my face? I was just being friendly, definitely not trying to stifle idiotic giggles over here. Jesus, when was the last time I had flirted with someone I was remotely interested in? Well, other than someone who had also been a psychopath? It had probably been a while.

"Thanks." Was literally the only thing I could think to say. Yeah. _Rusty_ is how I would describe those skills. Rusty to the point of serious corrosion. Clearly, there was a desperate need for me to get back in the game. Or invest in sixteen cats. That actually might be the more realistic option.

"I'm also single." Jack said as he came back over, a confident grin on his face as he managed to give both Ailla and Rhysik the eye. It was one of the few times I'd been really grateful for his libido. "Just in case anyone was wondering." Ailla laughed and it didn't sound forced. Either she believed me, or she had moved on. Or maybe my embarrassing lack of social skills had convinced her that whatever she had seen between the Professor and I, was probably impossible.

Couldn't really blame her for coming to that conclusion.

"Come on Fitz, let me teach you how to _actually_ shoot." She said, shooting Jack a teasing glance. Even his pouty face was pretty flirty.

"Good luck." He said in a tone that suggested teaching me how to fire a gun accurately was only slightly less difficult than teaching a dog how to spell.

"Don't listen to him." She shrugged him off as she took one last swig from her beer. "Remember, the trick is to breathe out slowly. And also, imagine Jack's smirking face right at the bull's-eye."

"Oh, well. Now you tell me."

* * *

Actually, breathing, when done in a non-hyperventilating kind of way, _did_ help. A lot. Though it was fair to say the extra hours of practice didn't hurt either. Well, physically, it hurt. But regardless, I was feeling much better about bringing a gun along. Not feeling improved about the odds of us all drowning in the black lagoon, but better about the chances of a bullet _not_ ending up in my foot. Jack and Rhysik had both wandered off for food at some point, and I had to assume they'd found some, because they hadn't been back. It was a little weird that being alone with Ailla wasn't all that uncomfortable. She was pretty normal, for an alien. Well, for an incredibly badass time and space-traveling alien. Normal wasn't really 'to scale' on my adventures, but you know what I'm saying.

"So how did you two meet?"

"What?" Hopefully this wasn't part of a larger conversation I had been zoning out for. Maybe I had been a little _too_ focused on the shooting.

"You and the Professor." She supplied helpfully. Great. Just what I wanted to talk about. "He's been a bit mysterious about it. Though it's probably because he's more interested in getting information _from_ me than he is in _giving_ me updates on his most recent history." There was a hint of a smirk on her lips, like she suspected there was something I wasn't being completely honest with her about. Like the whole 'kitchen-gate' debacle from this morning.

"Oh, that…Well. I had this necklace." My hand grasped at the chain around my neck out of habit. It actually wasn't the same chain. We had taken a special trip out into the middle of nowhere to chuck that one into space. The Doctor insisted several times that it was harmless now, but Donna had been there to remind him that wasn't the _point_. "It was sort of possessed by a time lord." By a real _bastard_. One who was currently residing in a pocket watch, one that was weighing heavily around my neck. Why I decided it was my job to keep it, I had no idea. The last thing I should want is a ticking time bomb of a very dangerous, and probably very pissed off consciousness of a certain time lord asshole, anywhere near me. It probably had something to do with my brain being completely missing.

"Rassilon, was it?" Apparently, I had lapsed into a bitter silence. Oops.

"Er. Yeah, sorry. Whatever space juice Rassilon had picked up came up on the Professor's radar. He tracked me down around the same time the Joulex did. Good news is they have a crippling weakness for getting beaned in the head with my book bag. When we were trying to sort me out, we ran into the Doctor. It all got a bit messy, but I guess things worked out in the end." No. They hadn't. Not really. "Even got to keep a souvenir." I waggled the pocket watch once before letting it drop back around my neck.

"Sounds pretty typical for time lords." She said with a smile. Where was she when I needed someone to tell me that? Could have saved me _loads_ of trouble in the end. "So did you two get on well?"

"Not so much," not at _all_ would have probably been more accurate in the beginning. "Life and death sort of made it better." Or worse, depending on how you looked at it. But just because we were getting along didn't mean I felt like it was necessary to share all the details with Ailla. Some things could just remain a secret. "So how did you two meet?" Did I really want to pry? Probably. It was also a convenient way to get off the subject of _my_ history, which was what was the most important.

"Pretty similar." She shrugged. "Though there was definitely more lies on my part. There was a reason I thought it was a surprise that the Professor trusted a human again."

"I really doubt he trusts me." I scoffed.

"Oh, certainly not," she rolled her eyes with a smile. "He definitely must not trust you to share a kiss for the sake of a _joke_."

Alright. Point taken. "So you were saying?"

"Well, it was my fault. When we first met, I led him to believe I _was_ human."

"Jesus, _why_?"

"Oh, you lot aren't _that_ bad." She laughed, but it was hard to believe her. From the reactions I'd been getting, it seemed like we were the rats of the universe. Sure, we had redeeming qualities, but most people were not fans. At all. "It was important he didn't know I was a time lord, so humanity was my best option."

"That sounds pretty shady." I said with a smirk, but she didn't really laugh.

"It was. I was a spy. They sent me, the Council did. The idea was to get someone close to him so we could keep an eye out." Oh. So it was _extremely_ shady then. Good to know. "When he left the Academy, there were many who believed he was not…well, not mentally sound."

"That's a polite way of putting it."

"It was much worse before, I don't know if it's because of his memory loss, or his regeneration, but he's much improved. Despite his…odd sense of humor." She added with a smirk. This was improved? I'd hate to meet the _more_ mentally unsound version of the Professor.

"So you got to babysit a mental patient? That sounds like oodles of fun."

"Well, it was my first field assignment. I was excited. Wasn't very smart about it…" She trailed off with a sad smile on her face.

"So…what happened?" That sad smile was probably a cue to leave it alone, but when had I ever picked up on those kinds of things in a timely fashion? Never. Never is the answer. There was just a sick fascination to know all the details. Like some kind of warped competition in my head. Who was the better ex? All the voices in my head seemed to be in agreement, actually. All but the one stupidly hopeful one that continued to rally on my behalf. That one was so annoying.

"Well, I was an idiot. I fell for him. None of it was exactly what I bargained for. Things weren't so bad. I just…sent reports less often. Thought about telling him. Forgot why I was really there." She sighed. "And then we got in a little too deep on one of our 'adventures'. I died. He went mad. Blew up a planet because he thought it might fix things."

So. It had been _serious_ then. Serious enough to blow apart a planet. Wow. That did _not_ bode well for the competition. In fact, that hopeful voice of mine became very quiet, very quickly.

"Wow."

"Then the best part was when he realized what I actually was, and what he had done…" The way she said it made my chest seize up. That would be the worst kind of betrayal for anyone, let alone the Professor. The man who wouldn't be capable of trusting a pet rock. That was bound to end badly. _Very_ badly. My face must have reflected that because she let out a short laugh. "Yeah, it was…well, it certainly wasn't pleasant. Then he was pulled into-" She swallowed, shaking her head. "I thought he died. Maybe a part of him did. I couldn't find him again, he was gone. Even if I did, he probably would have…well. I couldn't explain. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

This was _way_ heavier than I had been prepared for, and I was _not_ the person she should be talking to about this. Donna, I needed to find Donna and she could make things better with some gem of wisdom. But I needed to find her before, because leaving to get her now would just be awkward.

"I'm sorry Ailla. I had no idea." It was probably safe to say their relationship had ended badly. And with some serious finality.

"There's no reason you should." She plastered a smile on her face. "Just time lord baggage. Not something we're ever keen to discuss. That happens when you can live practically forever."

"Yeah, I guess. But, I mean. Now you can start over, right?" Wow. That almost sounded like I _wanted_ them to be together. Which is hilarious, because I'm pretty sure nothing could make me more miserable.

"Certainly, I just have to tell him how I betrayed him before. Not something I'm all that eager to do."

"Maybe not. Even if you say he's better, I doubt he'd take that kind of news well."

"Probably right about that. Especially when I'm little more than a stranger to him." She eyed me cautiously. "If you could…not mention anything-"

"Oh, god. Of course not." I shook my head quickly. There was a sinister part of me that wanted to point out this was the perfect opportunity for blackmail. But the rest of me was so horrified by the idea of it that my honesty was completely genuine. There was no way I wanted to touch that little gem of a tale with a ten-foot pole. It sounded awful and I probably hadn't heard most of the details, much less actually been there. Blowing up a planet sounded pretty god damn serious. And scary. It was probably even worse than I imagined, and my imagination was pretty good. "But I bet there's things he's not too excited to remember either. Maybe…maybe it won't come up?" That would be my plan, avoid it at all costs. Hell, that _was_ my plan. It was a _great_ plan. Until he eventually remembered. I _didn't_ have a back-up plan for when that happened.

"Maybe." She smiled, the same dreaded thought probably occurring to her. "I'm going to get something to eat, you coming?"

"Nah, think I'll just relax." It would probably be polite to sit with her, but I was maxed out. And thinking about tomorrow was twisting my stomach in so many unpleasant ways that if I even saw food, it would try and dry heave.

"Alright, don't forget to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow." Like I really needed the reminder. "And thanks."

"For what?"

"Being someone normal to talk to." She said with a smile. If I was her definition of normal, she was setting the bar seriously low.

"No problem." Still, it was always nice to make friends.

* * *

Sleep was a joke. My eyes, my body, my _everything_ was begging for it. Still it evaded me, because tomorrow we were going to be pirates. No fun costumes and silly accents. Just rickety boats and possible death. Oh, and sailing across a fucking ocean that looked like it was made of oil. I'm sure there was no ominous reason it was like that.

Just thinking about it caused my heart to race uncontrollably. Trying _not_ to think about it caused a similar effect. There was a book in my lap that I'd been staring at for the past hour, but was making no actual progress on. My focus was way too fuzzy for that. Too busy imagining the infinite ways I was probably going to die. Maybe laying down would be a better idea, at least making an effort to try and sleep. But that just meant that I might _actually_ sleep, which meant I might actually dream. You know, about rainbows, and bunny rabbits. Or drowning, or my dad's boated face floating in the water, or even aliens ripping me apart _while_ I drown. There was a pretty substantial list of reasons _not_ to go to sleep.

This was probably punishment for enjoying our trip to Atlas so much. This is why I can't have nice things. Happiness always came back to bite me in the ass. _Always_.

"A bit late for you to still be up, isn't it?" The Professor commented as he walked around my overstuffed chair and dropped himself into the couch nearby. Dropped wasn't really the right word, not for him anyway. Where us _mortals_ 'dropped' like a sack of bricks, he more sort of glided down, like a feather. He folded his hands across his lap and sat there, looking perfectly content to do so for the next few hours. Which probably meant I couldn't just ignore him away.

"Probably. Sort of hard to tell." It wasn't really though. My eyes felt grainy and the rest of my body was telling me it was somewhere around 'jesus christ it's late' o'clock in the morning. Sleep would have been nice, but my anxiety was just never going to let that happen.

"Trying tea again?" He asked mildly, nodding to the mug that was sitting on the table between us. We hadn't really discussed the whole 'remembering' incident from this morning, it was better if we just _didn't_. Because I had no idea what it meant.

"Ailla brought it. Thought it might help me sleep." I had sipped on it a little, but then let the rest of it grow cold. Now it just sat there, looking dejected.

"Having trouble getting to sleep?"

"Just a little worried about tomorrow." There wasn't really a reason to keep pretending to read, but I did anyway.

"Is there something particular that worries you?" He seemed surprised that our plan of 'making a run for it' should concern me. "I don't believe the threat is as serious as Ailla has made it out to be. And certainly nothing we can't handle now that we're aware of it."

"It's not that." Though it should be. It really _really_ should be. Storming some imaginary alternative universe castle full of the worst monsters the time lords had ever conceived, people who were so terrible they had been _unwritten_ from the world. _That_ was the thing nightmares were made of. And it did worry me. Especially the part where we were relying on the sun, the _artificial_ sun, to keep them away from us long enough to reset the TARDIS, so we could _maybe_ get back to the normal world. No guarantee. That _should_ be what was keeping me up.

Really needed a different word for 'normal'. Maybe it was better to refer to it as the _potentially_ normal world. But home. Anyway.

"What is it then?"

"The uh…the water bit."

"I'm sorry?"

"The part about crossing the ocean. And not only that, but crossing it on a raft people made out of trees. _Fake _trees. It's all kind of…" Fucking terrifying. Scaring the hell out of me. Scaring me shitless. There was no sane definition to provide him, so I just didn't.

"You're worried about how reliable the boats are?" As though the idea of handmade boats being flimsy was a silly one. Sorry pal, I didn't know time lords were world renown master craftsmen for boats.

"Kind of. More worried about the water. I can't swim."

"Well, the idea is _not_ to be swimming." Thanks for that. Now I can finally get some rest.

"Okay, but it's not the swimming that's the problem. It's the whole 'water' part. It kind of…it freaks me out. You know? Like a phobia? Of oceans, and lakes. Excessively full bathtubs. Really, any water." It was important for me to look anywhere but directly at him. The long drawn out silence was making me feel like more and more of an idiot.

"Water?" He finally scoffed. "You regularly fight against aliens, travel through space and time, and you're bothered because we're going to be traveling over some _water_?" It was nice to know he thought the idea was so silly. No, wait. Scratch that. Not nice, just annoying.

"When I say phobia, I don't mean like, I just get nervous. I mean the kind of completely illogical nightmare kind of fear. I can't go to pool parties because I'm terrified someone is going to push me in. It freaks me out that there's a pool in this library. I don't go to the ocean, because I think a tsunami, however unlikely, is going to come crashing in and drag me under. So yeah. I'm _bothered_." Wow. Kind of got on my soapbox for that one. Bit angry. Definitely angry if the startled look on the Professor's face was anything to go by.

"I apologize. It just surprised me is all." It should have made me feel better, getting him to apologize, but it didn't really. Instead, I was too busy thinking about the fact that the TARDIS was parked on a beach right now, and despite the fact that there were no waves, or even wind, who was to say a freak tsunami couldn't come along and sink us to the bottom of the ocean before we had the chance to try and get ourselves killed by some other means. "Fitzgerald," he leaned forward with a very serious look on his face. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

That actually did make me feel a little better, but not a whole lot. His grave tone could only get my freak out level from a defcon flaming red to more of a defcon orange. Those were levels, right? Maybe? Whatever, it was my defcon and I could make it whatever levels I damn well pleased.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said with a bitter smile. It would probably be more convincing if we hadn't had this same conversation before, which had ended pretty badly. Technically, I was still alive. So that was a plus.

"You don't trust me?"

"It's not that, it just…it didn't end so great last time."

"Last time?" There was that hint of interest again, dammit. Why was I trying to bring it up? This wasn't just a minor thing, either. This was when I had impulsively kissed him, because I panicked. Okay, also because I wanted to. But that was even more of a reason _not _to talk about it.

"Um. Yeah. We sort of crashed a ship into a river, and then I drowned when we tried to get out. A little bit." Could you do that? Drown a 'little bit'? If you officially have to be revived, does it count as a drowning? Where is the internet when I have such important questions? "But it's fine." His face had started to darken in that uncomfortable way so I made the effort to smile. "I'm not dead. It all worked out."

"Obviously." His voice was terse. "You know you bring up the past quite a bit for someone who doesn't wish to discuss it."

"I know," in my defense, the sleep deprivation probably had something to do with me being sloppy. "It's not that I want- I mean. Sometimes I just forget you're-" That will be me trying to put my foot in my mouth again. "It's not a big deal."

"Just big enough for you to constantly worry about it."

"It's not. You're making me sound crazier about it than I really am. It's just specific weird little things." You know, like the secret relationship we had that I now have to hide from not only you, but your ex-girlfriend. And the new man who might possibly be interested in me.

"Do these specific things have to do with me?" He asked it so suddenly I froze. Was he reading my mind? Is he reading my mind while I'm wondering about him reading my mind? Think natural, be cool. Peas. Carrots. Um.

ANYTHING OTHER THAN US HOOKING UP.

Well, that should throw him off. He was still waiting for a response, and hadn't burst into laughter, so I had to assume the mind reading wasn't happening.

"Yes."

His jaw tightened, but whatever else he was thinking vanished behind that well practiced mask of his. What the hell did that mean? Did he know? Did he _suspect_? Holy crap it is so awkwardly quiet.

"Fitzgerald, if I-" he stopped, breaking off his intense gaze, which was a relief. "I'm sorry." Sorry? What the hell for? "You should get some rest."

"Hah." Should have asked him _what_ hewas apologizing for, but my brain wasn't really up for that. Probably because it was too terrified to know. Sorry he couldn't be what he was before? Sorry, humans are way gross and we can't be more than friends?

Why did I even care? I didn't. Maybe I should tell him that, no big deal. It's totally fine that you don't want me, because you know what? I'm so _totally _over you. Fun while it lasted grandpa, but I've moved on.

Sure, sure I have. Which is why I was still avoiding mentioning that we'd had a relationship at all. That just screams 'I'm an adult and I can handle this situation like one'. Who was I kidding? Whatever, not important. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, rejecting the Professor before he gets the chance to reject me. Because that means I win, right? Winning means keeping the most dignity.

Which was a _joke_ since I'm pretty sure whatever dignity was left had been lost entirely that time my whole body was covered in Joulex intestine. Or that time I landed in a pile of Phangalor excrement and had to be dragged out by four men. Phangalor's, as it happens, is just a fancy word for a really big god damn elephant. In case you were wondering.

He stood up and plucked the book out of my lap, dropping it onto the coffee table.

"Hey, I was reading that." Not really, but he didn't know that, I mean, he couldn't know _everything_. Instead of replying, he placed his cool hand under my chin and tilted it back so I had to look up at him. My heart leapt into my chest, a sure sign that I was totally over him. Right.

"Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise." His eyes were doing that 'penetrating into my soul' thing again. Making it impossible to think of anything snarky to say. Actually, it was pretty much impossible to think at all with him looking at me like that. "Now go to sleep."

"Listen, it's not like-" But that's when I felt it, a weird and yet familiar tickling sensation in my brain. "Oh you sneaky f-" But my head rolled back on my shoulders and consciousness left me.

That son of a bitch put me to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

I woke with a start, and something jabbing me in the back. I couldn't remember actually falling asleep, until I did. And then there was a whole tangle of anger issues there. But the sound of a flag flapping in the breeze was confusing enough to dismiss my immediate violent plans for the Professor. It was only when I tried to open my eyes did it dawn on me that we were outside, because Christ, the sun, artificial or not, was bright as hell.

"What the…" My eyes blinked furiously in an attempt to keep me from going blind but it was still difficult to adjust.

"Ah, there you are. Feeling well rested?" The Professor asked as his face appeared, briefly blocking out the worst of the light. Then all that rage came rolling back and I gave him my best venomous look. It _should_ have been enough to wipe that smirk off his face, but somehow he was impervious.

"No." I snapped, which was an utter lie. I felt great, and alert. But he didn't need to know that.

"Interesting how you started to realize what I was doing. How would you know something like that?" He seemed genuinely interested, which just meant he was going to try to ask more annoying questions. So not in the mood. As soon as I found some chloroform of my own, we was going to see how he liked it when the tables were turned. Just had to figure out where they sold that kind of thing. Wal-Mart? Kidnappers R Us? I'm sure the internet would provide some answers for me when the time came.

"Maybe because that's not the first time you messed around in my head uninvited." I swatted away his hand and pushed myself up. The bite in my tone seemed to dampen his mood and there was some satisfaction to be gained from that.

"Ah, awake are you? Thought you'd slipped into a coma." Donna smiled from where she was sitting cross-legged to my left.

"Yeah, well, _he_ put me to sleep." I glared back at the Professor who wasn't looking even remotely sorry.

"He is pretty dull." She shrugged.

"No, not like he _bored _me to sleep. He _wormed_ into my brain and did that little Jedi mind trick. He _put_ me to sleep." She had just the right amount of outrage on her face for me to feel justified in my anger.

"Oi," she reached over and smacked him in the arm. It would have been better if it had been his face, but the effort was appreciated anyway. "No need for that."

"She would have been useless if she hadn't gotten any rest." His eyes had narrowed when Donna hit him, but he didn't seem overly bothered by her lecture. "Possibly even gotten herself killed. I did her a favor."

"Yeah? Well _don't_ next time." It hadn't _felt_ like a favor, it had felt like a major intrusion. Despite…it actually being good for me. Whatever. Not what we were focusing on right now.

"There's no need for hostility." Apparently, my crummy attitude was starting to ruin it for him. _Good_. "Are you saying you'd rather not sleep?"

"That's not the _point_."

"What _is_ the point then?"

"You're supposed to _ask_ about that kind of thing."

"You're saying I should have _permission_ to do you a favor? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?" His tone was starting to edge toward annoyed. What the hell was he so pissed off about? He was the one jumping into people's heads, flipping them off like light bulbs. It was better not to get him started though. The last thing I needed was to get into a shouting match with a man who refuses to see reason. Plus, I'd only end up losing. He's _way_ more articulate than me, and probably twice as stubborn. Hard to compete with that. But I was tempted to try.

"Look." I said, trying to use my most civil tone. "It's not that I _don't_ appreciate it. But yes, you _do_ need to ask before doing something like that."

"Why?" He was a child. A snotty, bratty, thousand year old child.

"Because it's not like holding the door open you idiot," whoops, there goes that 'civil' tone of mine. "You're going into my head without giving me any kind of choice about it. Does that sound like brainwashing to you? Because it does to me. I'm supposed to be able to _trust_ you. I can't do that if you're just going to do whatever the hell you want. That's just like the _old _you that I've been hearing about, and he sounds like a real barrel of laughs."

Well. So much for _not_ getting into a shouting match. If I'd had a moment alone to try and calm myself down, maybe I could have planned out my argument a little better and had a healthy conversation about what happened, but he had been right there, and seemed so _smug _about it.

Man, if his eyes had any kind of death beam, it sure as hell looked like he was trying to activate it right about now.

"Well," Donna said brightly, doing her best to dissipate the volatile energy that was radiating off both of us. "Look at you. The last time you needed a bit of hand holding, but you seem to be managing just fine this go around." Her voice was encouraging, but I had no idea what she was talking about. I'm pretty sure I've never needed handholding for berating someone, at least, not since I was eight. "Suppose you're on a boat though, so it's not quite the same." She shrugged.

"Boat?" The word didn't really register until I said it out loud. The ground beneath us was shifting ever so slightly, and then I looked up and realized the flag flapping in the wind wasn't actually a flag, but a sail. A big white sail. That boats had. To sail on _water_.

"Yeah, pretty great for something they had to build without many tools, yeah?" She patted the deck and I flinched, just barely containing the urge to scream at her. She was right though, it was much better than any ramshackle vessel I'd envisioned. But it didn't matter how seaworthy it looked, because we were sailing across the _god damn ocean_. My eyes trailed, unwillingly, to the edge of the deck, seeing the black water for the first time. It was still unnervingly calm, except for the ripples set out by our ship passing across it. My heart jumped up into my throat. Now hammering roughly just as fast as a hummingbird on meth. What was I expecting? That maybe we were just taking the boats out for a spin on the sand?

"Oh hell…" I whispered, slamming my head back against the mast behind me. Don't think about it, you didn't even notice it before, it's no big deal.

Jesus, what if the whole thing falls apart suddenly? Or what if there's a giant whirlpool coming up? Or what- Gah! Shut up! Count sheep. Close your eyes and count some god damn sheep.

Why? I don't _know_ why, just do it!

There was probably a better exercise to do in this situation, something I might have learned if I'd ever sought professional help for all of my insanities, but I didn't know one, so sheep it was.

_One sheep. One fluffy, happy sheep. Jumping merrily over a fence. Before falling into the swift river, the chill of it seizing his little sheepy legs, carrying him away from shore. The water soaking into his thick wool, dragging him deeper beneath the surface. He bleats for his friends and family to save him but they can't hear his garbled cries. He dies._

_Two sheep… _

Seriously. Should have seen a psychiatrist at some point.

"Or…not." Donna said, apparently noticing my full on panic face. This was all _his_ fault. Yeah, that's it, try and hold the anger. It had kept you distracted before. Just because there was an ocean of water beneath fragile boards trying to suck me into its depths _didn't_ mean the Professor was any less deserving of my unbridled rage. I was going to kill him. I was going to kill him dead and then strangle him after that.

Nope. Still freaking out.

But if we went down, I was _definitely_ using him as a life vest.

"It's okay, we're nearly there anyway." Donna said, her voice tinged with regret. Note to self, shout obscenities at her later. Focus more on scrunching my eyes tighter shut. If I can't see the water, it's not real, right?

But none of this is _technically_ real. It's some kind of manufactured twin of Gallifrey.

Some kind of _evil_ twin.

_Mwahahaha._

NO ONE ASKED YOU VOICES.

"Fitzgerald?" The Professor's hand came down on my shoulder, instead of sounding annoyed he actually sounded a bit worried. That might be touching, if I wasn't just screaming silently in my head. I let out a slow controlled breath, but my eyes were staying shut, god dammit.

"Yep. That's my name." My voice was only slightly strained. Hell, it was a miracle it had come out as anything other than shrieking.

"It's going to be alright. You've not drowned in the fifteen hours you've been on the raft and you're not going to drown in the last twenty minutes." Okay, twenty minutes. That was good to know. I mean, it would be better if it was ten, or five. Or _none_. None minutes would be best.

"I'm not sure you know the scope of how terrible my luck is. In general."

"Yes, actually. I _do_. But I'm not going to let you screw this up." He gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Thanks." There was little gratitude in my voice, but I'm sure he knew that it was implied.

"Besides, we still have to get through the army of time lords. You've got to survive the water so you can inevitably die _more_ horribly. That instance would reflect your luck more accurately."

"That's a pretty valid point." My laugh kind of shuddered out of me. Not a _good_ point, or a particularly reassuring one. But it _was _a valid one. Unless my luck was terrible enough to make sure I half drowned and _then_ was torn apart by time lords.

Let's just focus on one shitty thought at a time, shall we?

The Professor didn't remove his hand from my shoulder, and I kept expecting that trickling sensation to tease into my brain again. A sign of him trying to wash away my anxiety as another 'favor'. At least that would give me something to shout at him about, which would have been a relief. Maybe. But it never came. Which, in turn, had added confusion to the mix of my panic attack. At least there was some variety in my mental instability.

What the hell did he think he was doing? Respecting my wishes? Was this to get back at me? Was it a trick? Was it a good thing?

When is the tsunami coming to kill us all?

I didn't know what he was up to, but I didn't like it.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Um. So this should have been two chapters, but I wrote them together because it made sense to do so for the first draft. And then when everything was edited I was getting ready to go through and chop this in half somewhere and I whispered '_screw it_'. And that's why this is a freaking long chapter. Because it's two. Fused together. Like those freak M&M's you sometimes get in a pack. **

* * *

I chewed at my lip nervously. We'd managed to survive the ocean journey and now it was a good distance away. Apparently the Professor had been right, and I was going to be just fine and would I bloody well calm down. But I could see it there, down at the bottom of the freaking mountain we had hiked up. Waiting for me. Because we had to make a trip back, didn't we? Only a matter of time.

_Don't worry Fitz, _It said._ I'm still just as capable of killing you any ole time. I just wanted to give you a false sense of security this first go round. Good luck not sinking to my murky depths on the way back and dying a horrible death._

I really needed to stop giving inanimate things voices. And homicidal tendencies. That kind of shit was exactly what got me into trouble when I was young enough to have imaginary friends.

"They've been gone a while."

We'd been sitting there in complete silence when Ailla finally spoke up. Having run out of things to say an hour ago. It wasn't that we were incapable of having a conversation; it was just that this place had been slowly wearing down on us, every little noise or flash of light a source of paranoia. Well, that was _my_ reason for having gone quiet. Who knew what Ailla's was. Maybe she didn't like the idea of leaving Rhysik and Donna behind to watch the ships. Or the fact that the Doctor and the Professor both had wandered into the deepest and darkest most _ominous_ looking cave that ever existed several hours ago, and hadn't been heard from since. And then Jack had decided to follow them. Who, we'd also never heard from again.

Yeah. I was definitely getting paranoid. But for good reason.

"Maybe?" I tried shrugging, you know, to make the frantic thoughts in my head less likely to be the truth. It did _seem_ like it'd been a while, but it also seemed like it hadn't been long at all. Well, in a weird sort of way. I hadn't been hungry since we left the TARDIS. Wasn't even tired. And we'd gone through quite a hike to get up here. But I could feel time passing, even if I had no way of quantifying it. It was all generally upsetting, just like the sun that sat up there in the sky, unmoving. Hovering like it didn't have anything better to do with its time than remind us that it was really just a string of computer code and not an _actual_ star.

"Yes." Ailla said more determined. "They have." She looked over her shoulder and I followed her gaze, we both watched the wall of darkness that managed to suck away any kind of cheery thought I'd ever planned on having. Ever again. "There's something wrong."

"That doesn't surprise me." I muttered. The sunlight, however artificial it was, should have kept the monsters at bay. That's what we had been relying on to keep us safe while we made good with our escape. We hadn't been thinking about the cave though, or at least, I hadn't. So what happens in the spooky pit of doom where there is no light? What keeps them safe in there? The Professor's _sunny_ disposition? Somehow, I doubted it. The Doctor had said something about shafts of light built into the mountain itself.

It seriously didn't look like it from here. It looked like the light went for about twenty feet before the darkness snuffed it out like a candle, along with everything that was happy in the world.

"You think they ran into trouble?" Ailla asked me with a grim look.

"When do they _not_ get into trouble?" The Doctor had a way of exceeding _everyone's_ expectations in that department. And the Professor was just second in line on the list of 'people most likely to get into a terrible situation'. And we had sent them in together. Which sort of just seemed like playing Russian roulette with six bullets.

"Should we check it out?" The irresponsible deviant in Ailla was showing. I kind of liked it. Not a whole lot, because there was nothing in me that really wanted to explore the nightmare behind us. But then, our only means of escape was supposed to be in there. Along with three people who'd become fairly important to me. Some more than others.

"Can't hurt to take a look." I said with a sigh. Of _course_ it could. It could hurt a _lot_. It could hurt so bad we'd all die screaming. But it wasn't like we had much of a choice. Or at least I didn't. Maybe Ailla would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of her day's beach side in the Matrix. But I kind of doubted it.

"If you want to stay…" She suggested as we stood up. I don't think she meant it condescendingly. Didn't mean it wasn't hard to see it that way. She was probably just recalling how white-faced and furiously terrified I'd looked earlier when we had finally gotten off the boats. The Doctor had to explain about my fear of water, because I had been too busy reconnecting with sand. Spiritually. By falling face-first into it and laughing hysterically. The Doctor also had to explain what a 'panic attack' was. It was a fun learning experience for everyone.

But I was better now. Totally recovered. Hopefully.

"It's alright. If I stay here, I'll just freak out." Which wasn't really a great reason, but it was all I had.

"I'm sure they're fine." She said with a reassuring smile. "And it's not really as dark as it looks." She turned and took the first few steps into what I was going to start affectionately calling 'the crypt' or maybe more accurately '_our_ crypt'. I'm sure we'd find out shortly. I sucked in a deep breath, convinced the air outside was less dangerous and let my feet carry me along toward the darkness. She was right, it wasn't as dark as it looked.

_It was darker_.

"Ow." My first meeting with one of the walls was more abrupt than I'd been expecting.

"There's a turn here." Ailla's voice said, floating somewhere in front of me and to the left.

"Yeah. I found it." My hands scrabbled against the slimy walls, cringing as I did so. Who knows what the hell was all over this place, but as much as I didn't want to be groping the walls, I wanted even less to be smacking into it with my face. Ailla's footsteps hurried along confidently, while mine scuffed against the gravel below, with my own muttered curses echoing in the dark. It did gradually grow lighter, like, enough that the shape of Ailla was slightly grayer than the wall in front of her. Or I had strained my eyes so hard I'd burst a blood vessel.

"Look, there's one up ahead." Ailla said cheerfully as her slightly less disembodied voice started to grow a shape. A pinprick of light just around the corner outlined her completely and I almost started to sprint toward it. "There'll be more as we go."

I tried to keep my cool as the walls grew lighter, but a particularly nasty looking blob of fungus kind of ruined it for me. The other side looked a bit drier, so I made my way in that direction, hoping maybe shortly here, I'd be able to see well enough that I wouldn't have to feel my way forward. My hand grasped the wall, but it crumbled like chalk.

"That's weird…" My eyes struggled to see what made this rock so different, but I was so focused on that that I'd failed to take in any other sensory input. Like, the fact that there was a hole in the floor. One I'd stepped directly into.

"Oh sh-" Well, not a hole, a staircase. Leading down. The same direction my body was tumbling. They were narrow though, and winding, so there was no dramatic plummet to my death. More of a painful, multifaceted, bounce down, and sideways, and backward. Just slow enough that I had time to try and catch my balance before dropping another step and bruising a new part of my body. When I finally hit the ground, I just lay there. Grateful the ride had stopped.

"Fitz? Fitz!" Her voice sounded far off until she found the stairs. "Are you okay?" She called from somewhere above me as she took the stairs with more grace than I had managed.

"Murgh." It hadn't actually been that bad. Well, it _had_. It hurt like hell. But it could have been much worse. Everything ached, but my ego was probably more permanently damaged than my body. Not to say either was in a happy place right now.

"I'm so sorry Fitz, I didn't see them." She said as she appeared at the foot of the stairs, taking in the lower level. It was actually better illuminated than above, but I was having a hard time appreciating that at the moment.

"Yeah, me neither." It would have made me perfectly happy to just lay there until someone came by with a stretcher to carry me away, but Ailla insisted on hauling me to my feet.

"It looks like they tried to block this way." She looked down at the floor that was littered with rocks and my broken bones. Okay, there weren't any bones. "But someone had broken through a bit, do you think they came this way?"

"Maybe? Might as well check them both. He said it was just a big loop inside, didn't he?" Apparently, the big spooky cave had been some kind of religious site for the time lords, so we had the advantage of knowing a bit how it was set up. Or at least everyone other than _me_ did.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. You keep looking down here and I'll check out the one above."

What? No. _No_. Every horror movie I'd ever watched screamed at me at once. Never split up. It's the golden rule. NEVER. EVER. Split up. Especially not in the creepy dark cave where there might be homicidal time lords lurking. Why was she saying it was _my_ idea? Because that is not an idea I'd put forth ever. No. No, _no,_ nono. No.

"It'll be fine." Ailla patted my shoulder, sensing my inner terror level rising up again. "We'll just circle around and meet up. This way we'll find everyone twice as fast." She seemed so confident, so completely unfazed by the fact that she was shortly going to be wandering the cave all by herself. So pretty much, the opposite of me.

"Okay," My voice came out as a squeak but I was determined to sound less like the needy and nervous human I so obviously was. "Okay, that's fine."

"Great, be safe." She said, turning to the stairs and disappearing up them. Hah. That was a laugh. I'd just thrown myself down a flight of stairs, how safe could I really be? Whatever, it's fine. This didn't have to be scary, this was just a normal little stroll down a creepy tunnel. Checking things out. Only a matter of time before I run into someone else. Well, _hopefully_ someone I know. Definitely not something crazy or scary. Like a clown. With jagged teeth. And crazy eyes he uses to hypnotize children and eat their brain-

Moving on.

I pressed my hand against the wall, more as a reassurance than a need for the light, there were several shafts that went from the cave to the outside world, illuminating the corridor in dusty patches. The whole place had a yellowy gray haze that was comforting until I realized that just made it easier to hide in the shadows. So far, nothing had jumped out at me, but that didn't mean nothing _could_. Or would. Like NOW.

Okay, not that time either. Well, I probably wouldn't be this lucky forever.

A muffled noise caught my attention. In the sort of way that froze my blood and caused a small squeak to come out of my throat. But nothing in the shadows moved and I heard it more clearly. Scuffling, and a muttered handful of curse words. From a voice I recognized. The Professor.

"Alright," he said irritably, the voice growing louder as I continued down my path. "Alright you've got me you bloody _moron_. Get it over with." Well, that didn't sound reassuring. My feet rushed forward until I came to a carved out doorway to my right. My head poked around the side, super sleuthing the situation.

"Get on with it." The Professor was in a headlock, his face turning red as he struggled in his position. Another man, lighter haired, but just as tall, was hunched over him and had his forearm across the Professor's throat.

"You know I can't kill you." His voice sounded raspy from disuse and it sent a chill down my spine. I felt for my pocket, the weight of the gun suddenly a reassurance rather than another concern. I made sure the safety was off before I marched in there with just my attitude and a glare.

"Am I interrupting something?" They both froze at my voice, but the Professor used the opportunity to gain some leverage, throwing back his shoulders. The other man recovered quickly, still holding him by the throat. Well, so much for that. We were just going to have to do this the old fashion way.

"Did you miss me sweetie?" Other than a little ruffled, the Professor looked fine, at least that was something.

"Emphatically." He still managed to sound rude despite the fact that I might be the only thing between him and a swift death at the hands of his new pal.

"Brought me a snack, have you? Who's your little friend?" The man grinned at me, his teeth much longer than they had any right to be. Much sharper looking too. Like they had been specially built for one purpose, and I didn't think it was fighting off gingivitis.

"I'm cranky. And a little trigger-happy. Why don't you let him go?"

"You'll watch your tone with me." He glared, his eyes flicking down to the Professor. "I'm not quite done with him. Perhaps you can have him after I've bled him dry." He took his free hand and deliberately started to dig his fingers into the Professor's shoulder. He wasn't just gripping him tighter, he was literally using his fingers, which would be more accurately identified as _claws_, to bore holes into the Professor's shoulder. If the look on the Professor's face was anything to go by, I'd say the process was painful. "Tell her to put the weapon down," he hissed into his ear. "And I'll let you keep your arm."

"Thought you said killing me was out of the question." The Professor grimaced as he spoke and it was hard to tell if he was just trying to be an asshole.

"Perhaps," he squeezed his hand tighter and the color drained from the Professor's face. "They didn't mention anything specific about how many limbs you're required to have."

"Well," the Professor sucked in a deep breath. It was obvious that he was struggling at this point. "You are welcome to try. She's not much for listening. Or obeying for that matter." It was nice that he still managed to keep his sense of humor despite the five finger sized holes that were puncturing their way through his flesh.

He bared his teeth, apparently not in the mood for sass.

"He's right." He needed reminding that I was around, and that I was dangerous. Even if I didn't really look it. "I'm a crap listener. No need to take it out on him. Not his fault you brought knives to a gun fight." My hand was trembling a little, but I was trying not to make it so obvious. "Why don't you let him go. I'll give you to the count of five. One…"

His face turned vicious as he snarled at me, convinced that it might change my mind. It certainly turned my legs to jelly and gave me an unpleasant queasy feeling, but there was no way in hell I was putting the gun down now. When he saw I was still ready to fire, he released his grip on the Professor's shoulder, flicking crimson drops as he raised his bloodied claw up to the side of his throat, apparently not willing to wait until I reached five. Which was fine, because neither was I.

"Two…" I let out a slow breath, keeping both eyes open, and squeezed my finger against the trigger. The loud CRACK had me jumping out of my skin as I struggled to keep the gun level, but it didn't really matter, because I'd already fired. The bullet had flown straight, burying itself deep into the man's shoulder as he fell backward, the force of the impact causing him to lose his grip on the Professor. He staggered on his feet and I watched a deep red flower blossom at his shoulder. "Three." I said, marching forward and not lowering the gun.

"I'll kill you both before this is over!" He spat at me, turning for the door that was opposite of us.

"Looking forward to it princess!" I fired twice more, but only managed to hit the wall behind him. Not much of a shot while on the move. Oh well, I'd just have to be happy that I hadn't shot the Professor. Small victories.

"You alright?" I closed the remaining distance between me and the Professor, realizing he had slumped sideways, swaying on his feet. Blood was trickling down the side of his face from where the man had left him with a parting gift, but more was coming off his hand, dripping to the floor.

"Thought you were going to count to five." He said mildly as I helped him stand upright again. His left arm hung down at his side and he winced in pain as the rest of his body moved.

"Yeah, that was the point. Thanks for illustrating my clever plan." He muttered something in annoyance as he reached up to brush away at his throat where the blood was still oozing down from his temple.

"Oi," I batted at his hand. "Here," I reached into my pocket and, miracle of miracles, there happened to be a handkerchief. It probably had more to do with my unusual jacket and it coming from the TARDIS than any kind of planning I had done. The scouts and 'being prepared' just wasn't really my thing. I dabbed at the spill down his throat, which he tolerated with a surprising amount of patience. That was probably just a sign that he'd lost too much blood. When I finished, I folded it up and pressed it against the side of his face.

"Hold it there. It doesn't look too deep." He nodded and reached up, his hand covering my own for a moment before I snatched it away nervously. Not really the time to be thinking about that sort of thing, _idiot_. Then my eyes fell to his shoulder, and the now very visible damp spot on the jacket. _That_ looked deep.

"I don't think I have anything big enough for that…" but he did, always had that stupid scarf of his. I dug into his pocket and found it quickly. Thought about warning him, and then decided against it. Wrapping the scarf under his armpit and over his shoulder, tying a knot tight against the wound, hopefully enough to slow the bleeding. He hissed in a sharp breath, but he didn't move as I adjusted it once more.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." He grunted, his jaw unclenching once I'd finally stopped.

"Whatever you say, Rambo." I snorted, wiping the worst of the mess on my hands off on my jeans.

"Didn't take you for a sharpshooter." He swallowed and his voice resembled something close to normal.

"Yeah. I'm not." The giddy laughter and relief at not having shot the Professor was probably something that didn't need to be shared just then, so I tried to keep my tone even.

"What do you mean you're not?" His eyes narrowed.

"I mean I haven't really done that before. Jack and Ailla taught me yesterday. Or…the day before yesterday. Still."

"I see," he said, the reality of me being just as likely to shoot him, as I was the enemy started to sink in. "Remind me to thank them both later. We should find the Doctor. Perhaps he's had better luck." That was as good an idea as any, so I nodded, letting him use my shoulder to stay upright.

"Wait, is that important? That looks important." There was a portion of the wall far from the exit that was swirling, and definitely purple. It was a bit hard to tell because it was in the shadows, but there seemed to be an edge to it. It was good that I hadn't seen it earlier, because that shit was mesmerizing.

"No, that's just the Untempered Schism. Or at least, it represents it here. No idea what purpose it serves…" He trailed off and frowned. "Unless it's-" a smile pulled at the corner of his lips and he beamed down at me. "Oh, you're almost brilliant. That's got to be where it's hidden."

I was going to let the _almost_ thing slide. "What's hidden?"

"The TARDIS matrices, they're _inside _the Schism. That's why we couldn't track the signal, it's blocked by the time vortex itself." He started to walk forward, not needing extra support until he got within ten feet of it. That's when he stopped completely. "Stars." He gasped, turning back to me and finally looking more like a man who'd just nearly had his arm torn off. "What is that infernal _noise_?" Sounding like one too, since I was hearing absolutely nothing.

"Um. What noise?"

"Are you joking?" He looked a little ridiculous trying to block his ears with one good hand. "The _drumming_, obviously."

Yep. This was definitely a bad sign. It smacked of crazy. At least it wasn't the especially worrisome crazy, the kind where I had to agonize about him turning into an alarming psychopath. Not yet, anyway.

"Okay… you sit here. I'll go grab our…thingy that we need." I patted his back and stepped past him. This was just like Stargate or something, just had to walk through a purple swirly door. I'm sure it would be fine. It needed to be fine, because it sounded like the Professor had a full five minutes of sanity left, and we probably needed that to get back out of the cave.

"What? No Fitzg-" His voice cut to silence as soon as I walked through it. The whole room was actually an unpleasantly quiet place. There were no ambient echoes, my shoes didn't squeak as they crossed the sparkling white floor. I couldn't even hear myself breathe except for inside my own head. Well, that was unsettling.

The whole room was the same brilliant white, but it was impossible to tell how big it was because there didn't seem to be an edge to it. Just endless white. Except for the narrow black column in front of me that rose about three feet in the air. On top of it was a metal cube. Polished bright and not any wider than my palm. It was the only thing there, so I took it. Flinching at my stupidity, I waited for the column to sink into the floor, or some kind of mechanism to start turning as a signal that I had set off every booby-trap in the place and I'd now have to race a giant boulder to survive. But nothing happened. Well, this better be what we needed, because otherwise we went through a lot of trouble for a pretty mediocre looking paperweight. I stepped back through the gate and was relieved to hear something other than the oppressive silence.

"Where the hell have you been?" The Professor sounded more irritable than he had when I'd left him a moment before. I turned around and frowned at him, he was down on his hands and knees, slightly closer than before. And his nose was bleeding.

"What do you mean- Jesus, you look like crap." He was sweating and trembling too, my eyes searched the room as I crouched down next to him, but as far as I could see, we were alone.

"The drumming." He mumbled, now both his hands were over his head, trying to block out the imaginary noise. At least that meant his arm wasn't broken. That was some good news.

"Alright, hey, let's just get out of…the bad room, yeah?" He looked up with haunted eyes and that was especially worrying, because he looked so terrifyingly vulnerable. He nodded and let me help him stand up, staggering as we walked away from the Untempered Schism. The further from it we got, the more I could feel his body relax, even his breathing became normal as we walked out into the corridor.

"I just. I need a moment." He said, half slumping against the wall and he pressed his forehead against the stone. I stood there fidgeting, because what else was I going to do?

"Good news," I piped up. He spared me a glance without leaning away from the wall. "I got the thing." I held up the polished cube. Trying to distract from the possibility that the Professor was having a total mental breakdown that was adversely affecting his heath.

"Well done." He said, finally straightening. "What took you so bloody long?" It was nice he'd gotten his second wind just in time to scold me.

"Yeah, sorry it took me ten whole seconds. If you were so worried about it, you could have dropped in."

"I _tried_." He leveled me with that look of his and I swallowed. Right. The whole, hands and knees on the floor, nose bleeding. There had been an effort made trying to get to the portal, it had just been a failed one.

"Okay, well. It's fine. I'm fine. I walked right in and back out."

"You were gone for _ten_ minutes." He frowned, although I didn't know _how _seriously I could take him. He _was_ the one going crazy.

"Maybe that had something to do with your…erm. Those noises you were hearing? You know, the imaginary ones?" I supplied helpfully. He shot me a look.

"I'm not _imagining_ them. They might only be in my head, but they're _real_." His glare suggested I keep my mouth shut if I felt differently about it. "Perhaps the matrices are effecting how time moves within these walls." Right, it's definitely the rooms fault. Not Mr. I'm hearing a conga line in my head. _That's_ ridiculous. "You still shouldn't have gone. It was dangerous."

"Dangerous smangerous. It was just a portal." There was a small hysterical voice in my head that wondered if I could have said that so nonchalantly six months ago.

"It's not supposed to be a portal. It's the _Untempered Schism_." I raised an eyebrow at him. It hadn't meant anything to me before, and him emphasizing it differently _still_ didn't mean anything to me. "It's an open window into the time vortex itself. You could have been trapped, or torn apart. You could have been _killed_ Fitzgerald."

"Oh, is that all?" My voice didn't sound as lighthearted as I would have liked it to.

"You are infuriatingly trouble prone, do you know that?" Please, he hardly knew the _half_ of it.

"That's part of my charm." I smiled.

"I'm sure." He said with a shake of his head, finally pushing himself away from the wall. "You said you retrieved it?"

"Yep." I pulled the cube out for him to get a look at. He scanned it carefully with his screwdriver before nodding with approval. "This seems to be it. Which means the Doctor is probably walking into a trap."

"Where did he end up?" And where was Jack for that matter. Or Ailla. Lots of missing people in the mountain of doom.

"Only one way to find out." He took a step forward, but when he stumbled I caught him.

"Maybe we should wait…" While he seemed better off, now that he was away from the Untempered Schism, he certainly didn't look _healthy_.

"No, the longer we wait the more likely they'll come back. I can walk, it's just going to be…slower." He said the word as though it were a disease. The mighty Professor, reduced to _slow_. Bet he'd be a real hoot to be around when he was _actually_ old and feeble.

"Alright, let's go then." I tucked his arm across my shoulder and while he fixed me with a curious stare, he also didn't shove me away. Probably because he knew this was the only way we'd get anywhere before next year. Our progress was slow, but not as slow as it could be, and while the ground started to rise at an incline, we managed anyway.

"How did you find the stairs?" He asked, surprising me that he had the breath for conversation. "They were quite well hidden and I tried to leave them unmarked with my passing."

Dumb luck, would be how I'd describe it. But it wasn't really 'luck' to fall down stairs. So just dumb then. "Oh…I just kind of, noticed them." There was a moment of silence where I thought maybe he'd bought my explanation.

"Did you fall into them?" There was no laughter in his voice but it didn't make it any less humiliating. I looked over at him with a scowl, he appeared to be inspecting the scrapes across my forehead, or possibly the ones across my knuckles.

"No. I more of…did…I sort of-" Nothing. I had nothing. "Yes, I fell down them." I finally admitted. Careful _not_ to look at him directly, but it didn't matter, because I could see the half smile out of the corner of my eye anyway. Smug bastard.

He sighed. "If you stayed out of trouble for more than five seconds, it'd be a bloody miracle."

"Hey," I snapped. No one needed to be reminded of my seemingly subconscious desire to die in a horrible and violent way, least of all _me_. "Of the two of us, try to remember who's bleeding profusely. And hearing things. And while we're at it, let's remember who saved your ass. Me. The answer is _me_."

"You're right." He admitted, doing that annoying 'staring at me' thing again. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." I shot him a look but quickly avoided those uncomfortable eyes of his. Despite the dimly lit corridors, I was certain he could spot the flood of blood rushing to my face. Genuinely meant gratitude was enough to shame anyone. "Because I'm not very good at it."

"Nonsense. You're shooting is remarkable for less than a day of training. And your timing was quite good too." He didn't even sound snide about it, which is why I decided _not_ to mention that I'd actually been aiming for the man's head, and not his shoulder. It really was a minor detail and what was _important_ in this context, was that I'd shot him at all. _And_ that I hadn't shot the Professor. That's all anyone would need to know. "We should find-" We both came to a stop, because we were about to run out of space. The faint light illuminated just enough of the cavern to make it clear that it had caved in.

"Well, that's not good." The thick lump in my throat agreed with me. Don't panic. There's another way out, we'll just have to go back. That didn't mean there wouldn't just be another collapsed pile of rubble that way, but it was probably best not to think about that right now.

"About time someone showed up." The Doctor's voice called from near the ground. "Is that you Fitz? What are you doing here? Didn't we leave you with instructions to wait outside?"

"You took too long, idiot." My voice was giddy with relief as I abandoned the Professor and ran forward. The bow-tie wearing moron was on the ground, but largely unburied. Of course, I say 'largely' because where his legs should have been, there was a pile of rocks. That was slightly less reassuring. "Doctor, are you…is everything okay?" Don't think about mangled limbs. Definitely don't think about that right now.

"Yes. Absolutely. Well," he patted a large boulder that was behind his back. "Other than a rather unpleasant drop in with some time lords. And being trapped under these rocks, completely fine. Nothing broken anyway. Although I can't feel my toes…" He brought out his sonic and beamed the transmitter down toward where his legs might be if they weren't buried. "Yes. Not to worry. Just fallen asleep. A bit tight, and lifting rocks is somewhat more difficult when you're pinned under them. Not many people know that."

"Right." I hunched down and started to peel away the loose rocks, making sure I didn't move any that looked like they would bring down the whole mountain. The Professor joined in shortly, though he moved decidedly slower.

"And what do you mean 'took too long' we've hardly been down here for more than…Ah." He said, tapping the screwdriver against his skull. "Times a bit wobbly down here. Probably due to fluctuations in the vortex itself. And the added confusion of the matrices. Speaking of which, have we had any luck finding ours?"

"Yes. Fitzgerald tracked it down."

"Oh brilliant," the Doctor beamed at me, and then to my dismay, reached out with his hand and ruffled my hair like a dog. It crossed my mind to leave him trapped here. Forever. "Well done! Now if we can just get-" He stopped, his mouth hanging open as he listened for something.

"Er… is there-"

"Shh." He pressed a finger against my lips and listened even harder. We both stopped pushing rocks and that's when I could hear it. The 'pop pop pop' of gunfire. It was faint, but very distinct. It was followed by shouting, and a scream. I looked up toward the ceiling and could see how the noise was reaching us, through tiny gaps between the rocks. Somewhere on the other side of this giant pile of rubble, Ailla was in a shit ton of trouble.

"Ailla." The Professor said, coming to the same conclusion as me. He turned to the Doctor. "When you mentioned time lords, I imagine they weren't friendly?"

"No." The Doctor said with a frown, finally lowering his finger from my face. "Rather the opposite I'm afraid. Several of them were caught beneath the cave-in, but it wouldn't surprise me if a few were left. And they're not likely to be in a good mood."

"I've got it." I said, dusting my hands off. Not that I actually _wanted_ to handle it, but it wasn't like there were loads of options.

"_Got it_?" The Doctor looked at me incredulously. "By what? Providing another target? Hardly a good idea, Fitz." I was about to open my mouth to argue when I realized that he still didn't know I was packing heat. There was a part of me that wanted to show it to him, prove that it had actually saved our ass. But there was a much larger part that didn't want to disappoint the Doctor by admitting I'd brought one after the scathing lecture he'd given Jack. So I just kept my mouth shut.

"It's alright. I'll go." The Professor said with a groan as he stood up.

"What are you going to do? Crawl to the rescue?" I snorted.

"I'll be fine."

"Okay, but don't try and get yourself killed just so I can't lord it over you that I saved you." That was as close as I was going to get to admitting that I might have been a little worried letting him out of my sight in the condition he was in.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he put a hand on my shoulder before he left. "Work quickly and…don't do anything stupid." As he walked away, I was somewhat reassured that he didn't look as much like the car wreck victim he had resembled earlier.

"Quite reasonable advice," the Doctor commented as I returned to my task of hauling rocks. Now it became clearer why the Professor might have wanted to save the day instead of stay behind. Damn him. "You two seem to be getting along." He added, careful to look like he was busy with his screwdriver.

"Yeah. He always says such sweet things." I rolled my eyes as a particularly stubborn boulder tried to smash my fingers.

"Think he fancies you." He said with certainty. It caught me off guard, but it wasn't really that embarrassing coming from the TARDIS passenger who was the _least_ likely to catch onto that sort of thing.

"He said 'don't do anything stupid'. The 'because you're an idiot' was thinly veiled subtext."

"Well, it _is_ good advice. The _best_ advice really. And _I_ only give it to the very best." I paused my efforts to level the Doctor with a stare. "Alright, I give it to everyone. But I'm a people person. I generally _like_ humanity. The Professor…well. He _doesn't_. That's all I'm trying to say. He might well be worried after you."

"Yeah, thanks for that. I'll jot that down in my diary." With a grunt I managed to move the last heavy rock out of the way, beneath it, were two, fairly healthy, if dusty, looking legs.

"You've got a diary?" The Doctor's interest was piqued.

"No I don't have a- Why don't we _not_ talk about this. And get up, you're free to go."

"Ah, excellent work!" The Doctor chose to ignore my attitude and instead, rejoiced in his newfound freedom. "Let's get moving then, shall we? Love a good adventure, but I'm about tapped out on this one." He let me help hoist him to his feet, and then with a few jumps and leg flails, he was ready to go. Running, as per usual, back down the way me and the Professor had come. Trying to ignore the fact that maybe the Professor might not have reached Ailla in time. Or the fact that I was a lot more nervous than I had rights to be, and not just for Ailla's sake. Sure, he was a jackass, and I was always annoyed with him, but he was _my_ jackass. Well. Not _my_ jackass. But _a_ jackass I worried about, so he made my priority list. Just barely. But no one else needed to know about that.

The Doctor was making excellent time for someone who'd nearly had his legs crushed off, or maybe I was just glaringly out of shape. But we finally made it back to the stairs and I thought I heard the laser screwdriver carving a path through the air. That had to mean he was still alive. Or he was dead and someone was using his device. Right, that's what I needed to do right now, freak myself out.

As we both turned the corner, he kind of swan-dove off that priority list of mine completely.

The path near the stairs was littered with bodies, well, like four, but that was still a lot more than I was used to. But that wasn't really what had caught my eye, because the ones on the ground were clearly dead, and no longer my concern. No, what I found interesting, were the two figures standing just below the beam of light shining down on them. Loads closer than they needed to be. Specifically, in their _mouth_ region. Where they seemed to be _attached_.

This is probably exactly why Jack should have never given me a gun.

Ailla pulled back and threw her arms around the Professor's neck, apparently finished. "Thank Gallifrey you came when you did." She sounded pretty relieved, and a small part of me could understand why. Behind them, there were a few more bodies, one of them still smoldering. More than half a dozen in total, which was at least seven more than I could have handled. And probably at least three more than Ailla could have managed on her own. Couldn't say I was excessively happy about her survival, just now.

The Doctor and I stood there awkwardly for a moment as the Professor finally noticed our presence. It was made easier now that he wasn't sucking face with combat Barbie.

"Um. Ailla." He said, pulling at her arms gently. I'm sure he was really suffering with her wrapped around him like a scarf. Though I did notice him wince as he shifted his bleeding shoulder. _Good_. She spun around and smiled as she saw us.

"Did you get it?" She didn't even bother to apologize for the really unnecessary PDA that the Doctor, and more importantly, _I _had suffered through. I gave a sharp nod and she grinned even wider. "That's a relief, great job." She ran forward and threw her arms around me. Hugs for everyone today. To my credit, I stood there and _didn't_ reach for my weapon. If that didn't put me up for sainthood, nothing would. "We better get moving, I don't know if there's more coming. Only a matter of time before they realize what we've done and they organize." The smile faded from her face as she looked over my shoulder. "Only, I…I found Jack." She swallowed. That's when I followed her gaze and saw that one of the bodies wasn't actually a defeated time lord. It was Jack, the crook of his neck looking torn and bloodied.

Well _shit_.

"I'm so sorry." Ailla whispered, I jerked my hand out of her grip and knelt down next to Jack. He sure looked dead. But he had said that was impossible. Long term, anyway. I slapped at his face, gently, and then once with some real gusto. His eyes flickered and finally opened, a groan emerging from his mouth.

"Fitz? That you?" There was an effort made to smile, but it was a pretty weak one. "Did I just get juice-boxed by a deranged time lord?"

"Sounds about right." I let out a short, but relieved breath. Sure, he was immortal. _Everything_ was immortal. Until something killed it. But apparently, Captain Jack Harkness had another 'last stand' at some point in the future. "Come on, we're going home." I said, helping him to sit upright, and then stand. Ailla made little annoying mewling noises of happiness, but I ignored her.

"Atta boy, Jack." The Doctor smiled as he dusted of Jack's lapels for him. Which were also soaked in blood. But it was the thought that counted. Jack was heavy, but as we moved forward, he seemed better able to carry his own weight. The Professor caught up with us and started to try to help.

No. Not having any of _that_.

"I got it. Why don't you just make sure you can get yourself down the hill." I glared at him. Like a child. Especially since there was no earthy reason why he should know what the hell I was so pissed off about. Whatever, now really wasn't the time to deal with the fact that maybe I wasn't okay with the idea of Ailla-

Nope. Really not the time. Just because I wanted to pull her hair and call her names didn't mean she was wrong. If we stuck around, we would be in trouble, and a lot of it.

"Let's go." I said over my shoulder, intently _not _looking at the Professor, despite the fact that I could feel those pale eyes of his begging me to do so. Right now, we needed to get the hell out of dodge. And that's all I was going to worry about.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hello all! I just wanted to mention that I wrote a one-shot holiday fluff that's AU this universe, so you should like...check it out. Because it's only going to make sense to you people. That's right, I wrote it for you folks. Not for the rest of them. They don't understand, they're _inferior_. **

* * *

I finally worked up my nerve to approach Rhysik at the rear of the ship. It was slightly more elegant than the last time too, since instead of crawling over on hands and knees, I managed to stand. My hands still flung out wildly as I walked across the boats deck, like we were in some kind of storm, instead of this being the most peaceful tranquil fucking water ever invented. Still. Better than crawling. I had to celebrate the small things.

"I think it's my turn." I said with a sheepish smile. Actually, it had probably been my turn to steer for the last hour or so. But after my first attempt, what with my unnaturally high voice and vice like death grip, I think Rhysik had taken it upon himself to try and quietly skip me. But that was rude of me, and really, I didn't have the energy needed to sustain a total panic attack for sixteen hours straight of sailing. My fidgeting had gradually worn down around hour eight, and I was practically a mermaid at this point. Of course, it didn't stop me from profusely sweating the whole time, or getting a queasy feeling whenever I more than glanced at the water. Still. It was better than it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, apparently not much impressed with my barely concealed terror.

"Yeah, you've already done more than your fair share. I'll be fine."

"Of course you will," he smiled broadly and I was only a little dazzled by him. "We are nearly there." He pointed out toward the skyline and I could see a hint of something that _might_ be an island.

"Sure," I snorted. Apparently, he picked up on my disbelief.

"Time and distance are different here Fitz, we shall be back in your universe very soon now." That almost managed to make me feel a bit better as my hands latched onto the boom, this was the closest to the edge of the boat I had been in several hours, and already I was regretting my decision to replace Rhysik as he strode to the front. I leaned my weight against it and held to it like a drowning woman.

_Hah_.

Why did we even need someone watching the sails? It wasn't like the wind moved in any direction other than the one we needed. The Doctor had explained that the wind literally only existed for our purposes. Something about saving programming space. But no one had bought my 'let's just tie it off and leave it' argument, so everyone had taken a couple shifts leaning against the boom, heading in the general direction of home.

Rhysik settled down next to Ailla, who hadn't woken unless it was her turn to steer. In the full light, it was easy to see she really _had _been in trouble. Jagged lines down her shoulder were an angry red that surrounded freshly torn skin, mostly covered with a bandage. She hadn't complained about it once. Just another humbling attribute to put on the long list of why she was, and always would be, better than me. Couldn't even properly hate her when she was wounded like this. But part of me tried anyway.

Movement caught my eye and I saw the Doctor wandering back my way. He was giving me that funny look as he approached. Like he desperately wanted to open his big mouth and talk about things I wasn't really interested in getting into just then. Probably because I had pulled a bit of a scene back on the beach when we were leaving. Sort of refused to travel with the Professor. And I hadn't really been polite about it. Yes, it was because I was being a snot. But, I _had_ been enough of an adult not to scream 'BECAUSE HE KISSED HER, THAT'S WHY_' _so I felt that earned me some credit. Of course, at the very least, the Professor probably knew what my problem was.

And now apparently, so did the Doctor.

But you know what? It was good to get it out of my system, right? Okay, but avoiding people wasn't really getting it out of my system. More 'passive aggressively burying it deeper'. Maybe that would work just as well. A new breakthrough in the psychology community. Also. I was sailing across the creepiest sludge ocean ever, for the _second_ time, after surviving a nosedive down stairs in a spooky cave, and narrowly not being murdered by a pissed off time lord prisoner of war. I was entitled to be in a shitty mood just now.

"How's it going?" The Doctor erased the look with a smile as he approached. Having a natural affinity for sea legs since most of his walking on solid ground was just basically stumbling around anyway.

"Just peachy." There wasn't any effort to make it extra snide, but at this point, it was pretty obvious how miserable I was. "I'm thinking about joining the Navy when we're done here. Maybe become a professional scuba diver. That's a thing, right?" It almost made me feel sick to even say that.

"You know, you don't _have_ to steer. I'd be more than happy to take over." He said, his genuine concern sucking the joy out of my pity party.

"I know. Rhysik said that too. But, it's fine." Even the Doctor looked pretty roughed up from his fun trip under a pile of rocks. Whatever, I was traumatized too. This better qualify for my good deed for the day for the next several years.

"Atta girl," he grinned, bumping my shoulder with his fist. "Though I was also asking about…" his voice trailed off as he looked over his shoulder. Ailla and Rhysik were completely oblivious to our conversation. "Well, asking for _different_ reasons."

"Yeah, I know what you meant." Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't actually an idiot. Most of the time.

"Ah, right. Though you might, clever girl like you," his smile became more forced as he sensed my hostility growing. "So you. Uh. Are you doing alright? You know…about some _things_ that may have happened?" If this was awkward for me, it seemed like it was about a thousand times worse for him.

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"I…" He searched for some kind of response and failed. "Oh, I don't know. Donna asked me what you were on about and suggested, rather strongly might I add, that I have a bit of a chat with you. She was concerned."

"I don't need a chat. Thanks."

"Well…Donna seemed to think that perhaps-"

"Donna doesn't think anything, cause she doesn't know what's going on." Seemed rude, but I knew the Doctor was unlikely to repeat my words because he was just as likely to get a lashing for it from Donna as I was. Besides, she hadn't _been_ there. So she really _didn't_ know what was going on, because I hadn't told her and I knew for damn sure the Professor hadn't.

"Ah, yes. Well, technically she _didn't_ know anything. But she was asking questions and I may have mentioned, er…something about Ailla's little. Er. Gesture." His eyes had darted everywhere on the ship as he spoke, everywhere but directly at me.

This was not happening. This _can't_ be happening. This was a dream, a horrible, trippy nightmare and I'm going to wake up, and none of this will have happened.

Still waiting for that.

"Thanks for that." Dragging my hand across my face hadn't washed away any of the humiliation I'd been feeling, nor had it woken me up.

"You seemed upset, we were both worried." He insisted.

"I was, okay?" Admitting it actually was a bit of a relief. "I was a _little_ upset," well, that was a lie. "But it's fine. I'm fine." More lies, piled on top of lies. "And I _really_ don't want to talk about it."

"Oh," he looked disappointed for a split second until he let out a relieved breath. "Good. Excellent. Because I'm honestly rubbish at this. Really, _genuinely_ rubbish. I had no idea what I was supposed to say."

"I'll put in a good word with Donna. You made a valiant effort." Except now not only did the Professor know what I was miserable about, but so did Donna, and the ever oblivious Doctor. So that basically meant everyone, and thing, in the universe knew now, right?

"I appreciate it." He started to turn, but stopped and spun back to face me. "Incidentally," I groaned inwardly. His admission should have meant that we were done, but apparently, today was just not my day. "And I'm not saying that my opinion on the matter means anything, but I've seen kissing. All kinds, I've seen truly _important_ kisses. And _that_, that didn't even register on-"

"Doctor?"

"Yes?" He stopped his wild hand gestures to look at me again.

"You have to _stop_ talking."

"Yes, alright. I was only saying-"

"No. _Now_. You have to stop now." He snapped his mouth shut, looking briefly ruffled before the familiar smile returned to his face.

"Alright, absolutely. Well done on retrieving the time vortex." He patted my shoulder and this time I was pretty sure we were done talking about boy problems. Please Jesus let this be the end.

"Oi!" Donna's voice traveled across the water from the other boat. The Doctor and I both turned to see we had gone a bit off course, which was probably my fault. "You planning on joining us?" That was when I realized that the island was right there. Donna was already guiding her ship to shore while we were kind of drifting sideways.

"Yes, yes. I've got it. I can guide the TARDIS through time and space, I think I can handle one measly boat!" He waved his hand at her dismissively as he turned to help push the boom, first the wrong way, and then correctly. He looked up to see if I had noticed, I had. "Of course, I may be a _bit_ rusty. No matter. We'll get there."

He was right though, we _were_ nearly there. For the first time, I genuinely wasn't picturing my death. If I'd been capable of swimming, I could have probably jumped off the ship and made it there easy. Hell, even if I jumped off now, the odds of me washing up on shore were pretty good too. Of course, I'd probably be dead. Still, progress was being made, and a tremor of hope flickered to life in my chest. There was even the deep blue of the TARDIS outlined on the sandy beach. We were going _home_.

"Sun's a bit dim. Thought we would have more time." The Doctor said with a frown as he looked to the sky. The large globe that was still smack in the center of the sky, as it had been for the past three days, was now dulling in color and brightness, almost grayish. Even watching it, I could see the light ebbing away, readying to plunge us into darkness. But we were going to get out of here, so it was something to push to the back of my mind.

The boat jerked beneath us, throwing me across the boom and the Doctor stumbled down to his knees.

"You steer us into a sandbar or something?" I scowled at him, sucking in a deep breath to replace the one that had been forcibly knocked from my lungs.

"No, there aren't any…" He looked over the edge of the boat, his eyes trying to pierce the shadowy waters. That was just fine, he could do all the looking he wanted because I sure as hell wasn't going to. The boat rocked once more, and I was only slightly more prepared. The wood beam smacked me in the chest again and I heard the vortex drop from my jacket, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

"They are coming for it." Rhysik said as he pulled a knife from his belt. He pulled Ailla's half-sleeping form closer to the center of the boat.

"Are…are you joking?" He better be joking. No, he _was_ joking. There was no alternative. None that my brain was willing to accept. This time, instead of a small bump, the entire left corner of the raft hoisted up into the air and fell with a loud slap against the water.

"No." Rhysik answered, but it wasn't really necessary.

"But it's still light out," I argued, as though my superior logic would save me. Sure, they'd all just go home once I pointed out they shouldn't be here. Because Ailla had promised. Or, maybe it wasn't them at all. Maybe this place had whales. Computer generated whales. That were friendly. Yeah.

"The light keeps them at bay most of the time, but it grows darker now, and they know we have the time vortex. They will try and retrieve it. It is their only means of escape. And ours."

That was right when the boat keened sharply sideways and I watched as the cube skittered across the deck.

"Oh _shit_." I released my death grip on the boom and threw myself at the little silver box full force. My fear of dying in the ocean was quickly overwhelmed by the fear of never escaping if I let this stupid thing sink beneath the water. Because then someone would have to retrieve it. Which was especially unappealing now that I knew there were _things_ down there waiting for us. Things that were not friendly whales named Shamu.

"Fitz, get back to the middle!" The Doctor was shouting. That was about the same time I realized how close I'd actually gotten to the edge.

Probably sound advice. The cube was firmly in my hand and I used my free arm to push myself to my knees, slowly turning back toward the center of the ship.

"Doctor?" Donna's voice carried over the water again, this time, alarmed. Of course, _they_ weren't having any sea creature trouble, they weren't the ones with the trophy.

"It's alright Donna, get to the TARDIS!" He shouted as he pushed the boom to capture the wind, trying to propel us to the beach before anything worse happened. "And stay out of the bloody water!" He added as an afterthought. "Fitz, did you get-"

"I've got it." My voice was tight as I took a halting crawl forward, holding it out for him to see. Just then, there was another tremendous effort to topple the boat, one that made my single arm not nearly enough to keep me stable. My free hand flailed uselessly at the air as I fell sideways, but there was nothing to grab onto. My shoulder knocked against the deck and my momentum continued to carry me right to the edge of the ship where I caught sight of the Doctor's panicked face just before I slipped over the side. My hand smacked sharply against the corner of the boat as I went, for a moment I thought I'd lose the stupid vortex, but I stubbornly cramped my hand around it. Everything relied on me keeping hold of this thing, otherwise we were screwed. But, it occurred to me, that since I was falling down to the ocean where who knew how many monsters were waiting for me, we might be screwed anyway.

My back hit the water and only a second later the cold seeped through my clothes. It was so fiercely biting that it felt like tiny knives piercing into every inch of exposed flesh. Somehow, it was thick too, and my limbs, once they finally reacted, moved slowly in the viscous liquid. Hard to tell if it was the gut wrenching fear, or the weight of the water that made it feel like I was slowly being crushed in the darkness. Everything was spun around as I tried to see, my eyes stinging in the putrid water. That might have been the sun, somewhere near my shoulder, I reached out and tried to pull myself forward. I had seen people swim, maybe it wasn't too hard to learn when your life depended on it. This line of thinking had a familiar ring to it, like the last time I'd drowned.

A cold hand closed around my wrist, and I screamed, letting out all the precious air I had gathered before submerging beneath the water. The bubbles that flooded into my face suggested I had been swimming the wrong fucking direction, but my new underwater friend reminded me that finding the surface was the least of my problems. The hand tugged, dragging me deeper into the dark.

Hell no. That was _not_ happening.

I used the leverage its grip gave me to spin my legs around, kicking viciously as my heart threatened to burst in my chest. The fingers released me as the creature screamed in a gurgled way, my boot hopefully connecting solidly with its face. But as I struggled to gain some altitude, I felt its claws slash at my thigh, a hot brand searing its way through the icy chill of the water. I would have screamed if there had been any air left to do so. It was probably another ten seconds before my body betrayed me and tried to test the theories of water breathing. The fingers were still buried in my leg, snagged on the seams of my jeans as it tried to continue pulling me down. Another hand reached across my body, grabbing the fist that was still tightly clasped around the time vortex. My fingers were torn from the box as pain and lack of oxygen overcame my initial surge of adrenalin that had given a valiant effort in keeping me alive. My lungs burned and my whole lower body was throbbing, this was the end. At least it wasn't falling from a ladder.

There was a flash of light so bright and so sudden I thought that maybe I'd suffered a heart attack and died. But then I couldn't be dead, because there was another rush of fresh pain when my leg was released, and my body started to float. A strong arm gripped me around my middle and pulled me up, bringing me toward the light above the water. When we breached the surface, I gasped in a breath of mostly air, though my violent coughs suggested I'd jumped the gun a little. There was still that arm wrapped around my chest, helping me stay afloat, which was really handy, because my mental abilities probably weren't good enough to get my arms to work in any kind of cooperative manner just then. Not that any attempts at swimming would have gotten me anywhere but in a circle. Or more probably, back down below.

"Hold onto this." Rhysik's booming voice spoke from behind my shoulder as he held out the time vortex.

"Got it." I choked out, clasping the cube in both my hands. This wasn't going anywhere. Provided another three-hundred pound man didn't try and muscle it from my grip while I was drowning.

Once we'd reached shallow water, he'd finally had to hoist me up to my feet, realizing I wasn't going to do it on my own. The water that had soaked into my clothes made me about a thousand times heavier than normal, and there was no way I could put any weight on my right leg.

"Are you alright?" He released his grip and as soon as he did, I crumpled in a heap. He grabbed my arm before I could fall completely.

"Sort of got my leg," My teeth were chattering and my voice was still raspy from the water. When my eyes trailed down to survey the damage, I could see pale flesh exposed beneath a long tear in my jeans, and two raw bloody lines carved into my leg. If I hadn't been sick before, I was definitely feeling it now. Man, that looked like a _lot_ of blood oozing out of my leg.

"Oh. It is okay." Rhysik recovered quite quickly after seeing the damage. "You're going to be alright." He was taking this all in stride. Maybe it wasn't that bad? It looked bad. _Really_ bad. He scooped my legs out from under me, earning a pained hiss as he jostled my leg in his grip, but at least I wasn't trying to stand on it any more.

"Fitzgerald!" Someone was shouting my name, really loudly. There was just no need for that. I was right here. "You're bleeding, what the _hell_ happened?" The Professor appeared at my shoulder, the concern in his voice was quickly replaced with fury. Like it had somehow been my fault that I'd been mauled by some deep-sea time lord. So unfair.

"Don't worry, I'm super duper." My voice started to slur and I was pretty sure I would have passed out already if I hadn't been shivering so badly.

"I've got her." Rhysik said as he strode past the Professor. "We need to get inside. They will be back." Didn't need to specify who 'they' were.

"Yes, of course…take her to the ship." The Professor said stiffly as he vanished from my view. "And, thank you." If there was any energy in me left, I would have laughed. But when I caught sight of him again over Rhysik's shoulder, he looked stricken. Like he'd actually been sincere. Appreciation? Gratitude? I'm not sure those were concepts the Professor was familiar with.

"I did not do it for you." Rhysik said dismissively. That might have been flattering if I knew if he had done it for _me_, or the time vortex. But now wasn't the time to worry about that. Now was the time for my vision to tunnel and my head to slowly droop against his shoulder. Consciousness was just a little too far beyond my capacity, so I stopped that nonsense.


	14. Chapter 14

If these stitches were anything to go by, I'd say Jack was secretly a professional surgeon in his spare time. _Or. _He spent way too much of his time patching people, or _himself_, up. Which raised the unhappy question of what exactly was he getting up to, that he was constantly having to sew human flesh back together?

But I'd been unconscious for most of the process, so I didn't really get a chance to ask. It was reassuring to see that he was recovered. Only the bloodstain on his shirt and fading pink scars gave any sign that he'd had his throat bitten out hours earlier. Which was a neat party trick. Creepy as hell, but neat.

It was just me left now, me and my old friend, the lamp of majestic healing. Everyone else was busy running around the ship trying to make her fly again. I had a smaller, but no less important project. Trying to untangle my wet hair. Which was a nightmare with the added gray film that coated every part of me that had come in contact with the water. So basically, it was everywhere.

"You shouldn't scratch at it. Your hands are filthy." The Professor was lurking in the doorway.

I shot him a look, "What are you, my mother?" I hadn't been _scratching _it. More just…scratching _around_ it. Delicately. Hey, it itched like hell under this lamp. It was a miracle I'd left it alone this long.

"Certainly not." He snapped. That wasn't a surprise, he'd probably drawn the short straw and was just as unhappy to see me as I was him. Someone had to check on the feeble human while the grown-ups make sure we can get off Satan's Fantasy Island. "How is it coming on?" He asked as he walked further into the clinic area.

"Just fine. Jack seems to know his stuff." Two thin rows of black stitches started mid-thigh and stopped just above my knee. The lamp would make them useless in a few hours, but it was nice not to bleed to death in the meantime.

"And how are you?" He asked, leaning against the nearby cot. Nice of him to pretend to care.

"Peachy."

"Is that so?" His eyes narrowed in disbelief. Couldn't put anything past this guy. Maybe if he didn't want snotty answers, he shouldn't be asking stupid questions. Of _course_ I wasn't okay, I was fraying apart at the seams. So was everyone else. We'd just crashed a spooky monster cave, nearly been torn apart, drowned, and time vortexed into who knows what. There was a whole _bouquet_ of colorful and exotic deaths we'd tried to experience today. There should probably be a frequent flier mile program for that.

Whining about it, though, wasn't going to fix it. So it didn't really matter how I was _actually_ doing. And it certainly wouldn't matter to _him_.

"Yep." I beamed at him. He sighed in an annoyed way.

"Fitzgerald, I came to apologize."

"Oh yeah?" Look at that really interesting thread coming off of my jeans. Let's look at that instead of directly at him.

"Yes. I said I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I failed."

Was he serious? There's no way he was being serious. I looked up at him.

He was.

What an _idiot_.

"_Seriously_? _That's_ what you're apologizing for?"

"Of course," he looked at me strangely, like he had no idea what else he could _possibly_ have to be sorry about. Well. It was possible he didn't… "What-"

"I fell off a damn boat. Because of crazy super soldier time lords. Do you really think that was something you could have _prevented_?"

"If I had been _with_ you-" He insisted but I cut him off with a bitter laugh.

"Yeah? Whose fault was that?" Oh, oh. I know the answer. Who's got two thumbs and can be blamed entirely for throwing a pouty fit and refusing to ride on a boat with the Professor?

_This_ girl.

Hell, I was _still_ throwing a pouty fit because she had _kissed_ him. And he might have kissed her back, and what the hell does that mean-No. Not the time to get into that analysis. _Never_ was probably the time. Yeah, never was good. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

"Exactly."

"That doesn't matter." He shook his head. "I should have insisted. Fitzgerald, I _swore_-"

"That's your solution? You were just going to ignore what I wanted? Dragged me kicking and screaming across the ocean? _Really_?" His jaw tightened, he didn't seem to appreciate the tone I was using. Too bad.

"It would have been for your own-"

"If you say 'good' I'm going to find something heavy, and I'm going to _beat_ you with it." That shut him up. And pissed him off. "I guess I was wrong, you're not any better than you were before. You're still just an over controlling _psychopath_. But you know what? I'm an adult. Maybe I'm not old, or mystical, or full of spacey fucking wisdom, but I can handle myself. I don't need a babysitter, and _you_ are not responsible for me." My voice just kept getting louder, apparently he was _exceptionally_ good at getting under my skin. Who knew? "I know I'm the low species on the totem pole, but I _am_ capable of making my own decisions. So take your sorry's, and stuff them. Got it?"

The silence hung in the room in a terrifying way. Like it had only _just_ occurred to me that I might have actually shouted some of those things at him, _out loud_. So I had gotten a bit worked up. In my defense, it had been a long day, and I'd lost a lot of blood. He was angry too, and for a moment, I thought he might really strangle me this time. Which, really, would just be the icing on the god damn cake.

"I am _aware_ that you are not in need of a nanny," his voice had a barely controlled edge to it. "And I'm certainly not implying that I should be one, least of all _yours_. What you are in _desperate _need of, are manners. I do apologize profusely that I was bothered to care or worry for your safety at all. It was an accident, I assure you, and won't happen again. I wouldn't want to offend your _barbaric_ human sensibilities." His nostrils flared and there was color on his cheeks. It might have been funny if I wasn't so furious, and maybe a little afraid of him.

"I appreciate it." I said as I scratched at my leg because it itched _and_ because I knew it would irk him. "Why don't you go care about Ailla's safety? I bet she's got _loads_ of manners."

Okay, that was childish. Maybe I had been optimistic when I had claimed to be an adult. He blinked in surprise, I'd probably hit a nerve. _Good_.

Except it didn't really _feel_ good, because this wasn't really the direction I wanted this to be going. I'm pretty sure I wanted it headed the opposite way. Seeing him with Ailla like that had cemented that pretty clearly in my mind. No matter how stupid it was, I wanted him. But it was too late to stop now, wasn't it? Dumb ass.

All aboard the alienation train! Next stop, forever alone!

"Is that-" He frowned, watching me suspiciously. I glared right back at him, not giving up now, not when I'm so close to my unwanted victory. "Very well." He finally said quietly. The anger had receded but he still looked like he had something sour in his mouth. He stood up straight and marched out of the room without another word.

Well. _That_ felt terrible. Should have said something, you know, other than the shitty things I _had_ been saying. Maybe along the lines of 'thanks for caring at all' or 'it wasn't your fault'. You know, in a nice way? I was just so…so…_pissed_ _off_ at him. He _was_ a shitty listener, how many times had he- Wait. Who was I thinking about? The man who had kidnapped me from my home, made me tea despite my insisting I didn't like it, tried to sacrifice himself to help me out, took on Rassilon when I explicitly told him _not_ to.

So…_not_ the man I'd just been yelling at.

God dammit. I'm an idiot.

I crossed my arms over my chest because I was _not_ going to chase after him. Nope. I had a busted leg. And, I was technically right. _And_ I was still too angry to sound convincingly apologetic.

Or I was just too stubborn to try. And too afraid that he'd shoot me down, you know, just like I'd shot _him_ down just a moment ago.

You know, someday, I'll be a proper grown-up and handle these situations in an adult manner.

Today wasn't that day.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: This is another scenario of writing a couple chapters together, but this time I actually split them up. So it looks like I'm ultra productive by updating again! It's a lie. I am not. **

**Also special shout out to Summer Rosewood. Y U AWAIZ GEST MODE. Thank you anyway dove :D**

* * *

"_Hello_?" A hushed voice jolted me from my nap. And reminded me very suddenly why you shouldn't try to sleep with your neck bent over the back of a chair.

_Ow_.

My eyes adjusted and informed my foggy brain, that there wasn't anyone in the room. Had I imagined it? Maybe this was the part of the trip where I lost my mind. Bound to happen sooner or later. Actually, I'm impressed it had held out as long as it had. All I needed was one last little push to send me reeling-

"_Is anyone there_?"

No. Definitely heard it that time. It was hushed because it was a whisper. And it was coming from the wall.

…

The walls were whispering to me. That's probably a bad sign.

No. Wait. False alarm. A red light flashed against the wall to my right, just beyond the cot. Not going crazy, it's an intercom. That was more of a relief than it should have been. I hopped up, trying to ignore the dull pain that throbbed in my leg with each movement. There were a few buttons below the intercom, and a switch.

Um. How the hell do you work something like this? I flipped the switch up and heard a hiss.

"Uh, hey-" Feedback shrieked in my face and I pulled back, trying to talk quieter. "Um. I'm here?"

"_Fitz_?" Ailla. But she sounded different.

"Yeah, it's me. What's up?"

"_Tell the Doctor. They're in the lower levels. The walls of the TARDIS, she's still fluctuating_." That difference that I heard before? That was _fear_. My stomach tightened unpleasantly. "_Few of the clever bastards got through. We've taken one down, but there's more. Tell the Doctor he's got to get the control panel_-"

"_Fitz? Is that you_?" The Doctor suddenly cut in, drowning out Ailla's voice. I flailed my arms at the wall furiously in the hopes he could sense my frustration.

"-_the stability field_."

Er. There was something missing from that. Probably something vital.

"Sorry, Ailla, what did you say?"

"_What's going on? Are you alright? How in the blazes did you manage to work the intercom_?" It was a tossup to say which part I was more annoyed by. His constant interruption, or his total lack of faith that I was capable of working a radio.

"Doctor, _shut up_. Ailla's in trouble. She's telling me something."

"_Overload the buffer panel_." Ailla said quickly after I'd finished. Her voice had gone softer. "_He'll know what to do. Just need to offset the timeline's enough_…" She went quiet, and then the hissing I had been hearing cut to silence. A quick round of gunfire echoed from down the hall. And was followed by more ominous silence.

"Ailla?" I barely breathed, but there was no response.

"_Fitz? Is everything alright_?"

No. Not really. Not really at _all._ "Doctor, she's in trouble. They got in." What the hell were we going to do? "You have to find them; she said to…overload the buffer panel. You'd know what to do to offset a time line. They're somewhere nearby, I heard guns." My words were all mashed together and probably sounding a little frantic. How were we going to find her? Follow the pitter-patter of gunfire? How was I supposed to hop around this whole damn ship looking for her? And Rhysik too, wasn't he with her? Holy crap we are _so screwed._

"_Calm down, everything is going to be just fine_." He used that annoying voice of his, the one that said 'breathe, you're starting to sound crazy'. I didn't need the reminder, I was already aware. "_We'll take care of it. Are you still where we left you_?"

"Yeah, still in the med bay, why?" An audible sigh came from the other end.

"_Fitz, is the intercom on_?"

"Uh. Yeah. How else would we be talking?"

"_No no, not just the local radio. The intercom. The one that broadcasts through the entire ship_."

We had something like that? We weren't throwing nearly enough dance parties if that were the case.

"I don't…" How do you tell what an intercom is as opposed to a radio? _Aren't those just the same thing_? Maybe he had a point about me being unable to work this thing.

"_Is the little white switch _up?"

"…yes?" Through the whole ship. So then…everyone and every_thing _could hear me? Including the intruders? Awesome. "Oh."

"_Yes, well. Never mind that, don't panic_." The Doctor said firmly. Yeah, just tell myself _not_ to panic. That always works. "_They've not been on a TARDIS in a long while, I'm sure they've forgotten all the ins and outs. We'll get Ailla and Rhysik and you sorted in just a tick. Just…shut the door, alright_?" Sure, of _course_ they don't remember what a TARDIS is set up like. Hell, it was always changing. This was fine, what was I so worried about?

Maybe the part where Ailla seemed to know where everything she needed was, without ever having been here before.

Well, so much for making myself feel better.

"Okay." Don't panic. Think about rainbows and sunshine. Or something that would actually be calming. Panic would be bad.

"_Good luck_." The pause in his voice gave me absolutely _zero_ confidence. But the red light died, so I assumed if I swore at him now, he wouldn't hear me. I'd save it for later. Yeah. Later. If I was still _alive_.

Boy, wasn't I little miss optimistic?

Were those footsteps I heard? Or gunfire? Whatever it was it sounded closer than before. I unclenched my fists and reminded myself to breathe. Breathing was important. But not in that psychotic rapid way I was doing right now. It'll be fine. It's going to turn out fine. Fine. Fine fine. First the door.

Which turned out to be more of a challenge than I thought.

"Shut! CLOSE!" Increasing my volume didn't do anything other than vocalize my growing lack of inner Zen. Battering my fists against the wall didn't help either. I head butted the wall, which hurt, but did nothing to move the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Small white button on the side of the doorframe. Who has _white_ buttons in a _white_ room? Who does that? Whatever, didn't matter. I jabbed it with my thumb and with a hiss, the door started to slide shut.

Before it could come to a complete close, a pale gray hand slipped between the metal panel and the wall, bringing my optimism, along with the door, to a grinding halt. The long slender fingers curled over, revealing sharp jagged tips.

Oh _shit_.

No. It's _fine_.

Maybe if I said it enough times, it would be true. Going in my favor, was the fact that there was hardly space for his hand to get through, much less his whole body. It wasn't ideal, but someone would be along shortly to help, and hey, now he was trapped. This was really much better than it look-

With a shriek of protest, the door started to slide back. It moved slower than when it had closed, but it _was_ moving. Opening. Wider. There went _that_ plan. I took one hop backward, and then another. My eyes unable to look away as the inch gap became two, and then four. A face appeared, grinning at me.

"Ah yes," his voice rasped unpleasantly. "I had hoped I might find you here."

"Funny, can't say the same." He was still unable to enter the room, so I was safe for now. Hard to convince my heart of that as it pounded away at a rate reserved for humming birds and mice that were about to be devoured. I finally took a glance around the room, what the hell could be used as a weapon? My chair? A freaking _band-aid_? Maybe my healing lamp? Could you heal someone to death? That seemed pretty unlikely, especially when you considered my luck. He laughed as he watched my frantic movements, and it was a sickly sound, probably because it came from lungs that were still half-full of ocean sludge.

"You tried to kill me _human_." Oh, great. Another fan of the homosapien. Nice to know that all differences considered, both good and evil time lords agreed that humans were just the _worst_. "I merely intend to return the favor. Though, I think you will agree, I am _much_ better at it." Instead of continuing to slide the door open, he grew impatient with it, which I could sympathize with. His fingers dented against the metal as he started to wrench it back and forth, until finally, with a scream, half the door pulled from its frame out into the hall.

I hopped several more steps back.

Other than being soaked to the bone and covered in that black silt that permeated the water, he looked remarkable healthy for a man who had been shot, and then marched across an ocean. Or beneath it. Besides his shirt stained darker where blood had oozed from his shoulder, you couldn't even tell he had been hurt. Gotta tell you, not a fan of the Gallifreyan experimental soldier program. Not a fucking fan _at all_.

"Well, you know. That wasn't really personal. That's just because you were trying to kill us." So, a _little_ personal then.

"You tried to hurt me," he said it like it was a joke, like the idea of me _harming_ him was a big laugh. "Got a taste though, in the water. You're not like that old bitter time lord. You're young. _Fresh_." He grinned and I realized the sludge around his mouth wasn't just black. It was a deep deep red. Was the Doctor too late? Had this asshole found Ailla? And Rhysik? Or maybe he _had_ run into the Doctor.

Or all of them.

Christ.

I'm going to go ahead and start panicking now.

He climbed past the half door, dripping as he went. I risked a glance over my shoulder. _No one is coming. Everyone is dead_. The nasty thoughts in my head were being particularly unhelpful today. But if that was the case, I needed to get myself out of this, there had to be something I could use. The chair I'd been sitting in bumped against my hip, I tried to lift it, but with only one good leg, it was impossible, and not a particularly useful weapon anyway. _Everyone is dead and you're gonna be next_.

Shit. Shit _shit_.

I knocked the chair over, but it was pretty pathetic as far as roadblocks went. My eyes locked onto the cot, that had some heft to it. I grabbed the edge of it and yanked, tipping it over and hopping out of the way as it fell, it smashed against the floor and my leg did _not_ appreciate the effort. But it was three feet of a barrier that hadn't been there before, so it was worth it.

_A solid steel door didn't slow him down. How much do you think that will do_?

If my brain had a face, I would punch it so hard.

He laughed again as he stalked me across the room, not feeling any need to hurry. After all, he was a killing machine; I was a helpless meat piñata. Why rush things?

"You want to play games, little girl?" He asked with a grin and I tried not to look directly at his teeth, sharp fangs that appeared to have been built for a very specific purpose, like murder.

"You a scrabble guy?" No. No, I really didn't want to play games. I wanted not to get killed. I wanted him to go away and just let me _live_. That kind of pleading would only make him laugh though, so I bit my lip and stifled my desperation. My back hit the counter and I realized we'd reached the end. A few glass jars filled with miscellaneous cotton and bandages, my jacket neatly folded to the side.

_My jacket_.

The one with the _gun_. Hope seized me by the throat and I held my breath. I'd have to dig through the pockets to get it; did I have the ten seconds I needed to do that? Hell, did I even have _two_ at this point? All that separated us now, was the cot.

I grabbed two jars and hurled them at him, one missed by a mile, but the other burst against his forehead. Bull's-eye. I grabbed the jacket, turning my back on him. My shaking hands fumbled with the zipper and pulled the pocket open around the same time he screamed furiously. Apparently, not amused. I turned my head just in time to see him launch clear over the cot and land squarely on my back. My leg exploded in a white-hot pain with the added weight and we fell sideways onto the floor. Still desperately trying to find the gun. Knowing there wasn't enough time, but ignoring the throbbing in my leg as he pinned me to the ground. His claws pierced through my shirt as we struggled and _there_. There it was. My hand grasped something cool and metal just as his razor teeth sank into the back of my neck.

I screamed, but there was mostly fury behind it, I used it to power my elbow back, driving it into the side of his head hard enough that he released me, falling back. Spinning around, I leveled the gun at his head even as he started to come at me. My finger squeezed the trigger as he opened his mouth.

_CRACK_.

The single bullet echoed through the room and where his face used to be, there was just a large and messy hole. The chemical smell of the gun hit my nostrils first, and then the overwhelming stink of blood.

"Ho- _Fuck_." The corpse slowly slumped sideways to the floor, a puddle growing from his head. I scuttled up on my one good leg, desperate to get away from it.

He was dead.

_I_ killed him.

Someone that had been alive a moment ago. Like, just a _second_, most definitely _wasn't_ anymore. I couldn't stop staring. Or shaking.

My own blood, slowly trickling down my back, alerted me to move. The wound didn't seem to be gushing; he had probably planned on having some fun before he killed me outright. Rummaging through the drawers produced some gauze and tape to make a reasonable enough bandage.

That's when I heard footsteps hammering on the metal floor out in the hall. Someone was coming, and they were coming fast.

_Godfuckingshiteveryfuckingth ingfuck_.

I spun around, desperately searching for just someplace to _hide_. Not that it would matter. It was a pretty big mess I'd made, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out _someone_ had killed this guy. I threw a sheet over him, hoping it might buy me some time. Who the fuck knows, I have no idea what I'm doing at this point. But the blood soaked through almost instantly; pretty obvious it was a body.

Shit. No time to worry about it, I settled for the corner of the room adjacent to the door. Hopefully, they wouldn't see me until I got a few shots off. Assuming my aim was any good. Which it wasn't. I'd gotten lucky just now, because if anyone could miss at point blank range, it would be me.

I didn't feel like my luck was something to rely on.

Leaning against the wall, my leg reminded me, in a furiously angry and throbbing way, that it hurt. The gun shook badly as I tried to hold it still with both hands, but it wasn't really working. Just take a breath, calm down. The footsteps closing in weren't helping either. They finally slowed to a stop outside the door. My breath caught in my chest and my muscles locked up. Don't shoot until they're close. He took one step in, then another.

"Fitz…" A hoarse whisper came from his mouth, and with a stupid amount of relief, I recognized the Professor. His eyes locked on the sheet, and the general carnage of the room. He made a noise and I started. Probably should take my finger off the trigger before I accidentally shot him.

"Thank freaking god," I let out a shuddering breath as my cramped hand loosened around the gun, the weight of it dragging my arms down. "Because I really didn't think I was going to get a clean shot from this far."

His head snapped around and for a second, he looked terrified. Which was weird, didn't take him for the type to be bothered by dead bodies. You know, since he was usually the one _making_ them dead. His eyes locked onto mine with a terrifying intensity, but he didn't _do_ anything. He just stood there and stared, acting like someone had kicked him in the balls.

"You okay?" The lingering silence was starting to freak me out, and I had already hit that quota for the day. He didn't answer, but somewhere in that brain of his he had reached a decision. Striding forward, he crossed the distance between us, his gaze never leaving mine. I opened my mouth to ask again, but was startled to silence when I realized his brakes didn't seem to be working. He was getting close, _too_ close. Close enough to cup the back of my head, and without any hesitation, crush his mouth against mine.

There was a brief moment where I stood there frozen, wondering what the hell was going on. But the rest of the voices in my head smothered that thought with a pillow of bricks and had me responding eagerly. My lips parted and my eyes fluttered closed, his movements were fueled by a hungry kind of desperation that had my stomach doing all kinds of gymnastics. When he pressed up against me and pinned me to the wall my throat made an unconscious sound. He was _really _good at this.

He finally released me, resting his forehead against my own. I was secretly pleased his breathing was just as ragged as mine. His other hand slid up my shoulder, cool fingers tracing against the skin of my collarbone and leaving a trail of goose bumps as he went. He leaned down once more, placing a softer kiss against my lips when his hand came around to the back of my neck. I sucked in a sharp breath and flinched, the pain ripping through me unexpectedly.

"Sorry." He said, his voice husky. "Sorry that was- I just-" He stepped back, giving me room to breathe. When he pulled his hand away, he frowned, bringing it closer to inspect. "Are you…you're _bleeding_." His voice had gone sharp in less than a second. Way to be a mood killer, guy. As if I were _unaware_ of my injuries. Part of me briefly considered grabbing a handful of his hair to finish what he'd started, but he seemed pretty distracted by the blood that was seeping through my, apparently, crappy bandage.

"Um." Had to remember words again. Sentences. Cognitive thoughts. "Yeah. Wasn't as prepared for the first guy." I tried clearing my throat so it was slightly _less_ obvious how much of an effect he'd had on me.

"There was-" He turned back to the body. "Ah. That's who that was."

"Yeah, who'd you think it was?" I snorted.

"You." Those pale eyes locked onto mine again, somehow burning with a heat despite their light color. I found myself trembling under the full force of it.

"Oh." It finally clicked. He thought the body had been _me_. He thought I was the one laying dead on the floor.

So that explained this whole…_incident_ better.

Well. No. It didn't really. I mean, it was nice that he was relieved I had survived, but this was a _bit _more concern than I was expecting. Also, completely out of leftfield. And very much not the _type _of response I would have anticipated. It wasn't like- I mean, he had been _joking_. All those times he flirted? And the kitchen? That _had_ been a joke, right?

His hand still cradled the back of my head, like he was afraid I was going to disappear.

I'm still not sure what's going on.

"I'm sorry, I should have been here sooner."

"Thought you were done caring." I gave an uneasy smile.

"I lied." The corner of his lips barely curved upward, he looked incredibly dangerous when he did that.

And a little sexy?

Shut up, you just got your brain back out of its gelatin state, don't go screwing that up again so soon.

"It's fine," I swallowed. "I'm alright." It wasn't technically true, but it was _mostly_ true. I was confused as all hell, but I was _alright_. "Ailla and the rest made it out okay?"

He frowned. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you _don't know_?"

"There wasn't time to check first, I'm sure the Doctor and Jack managed."

"You can't just _assume _that kind of thing!" My voice was unpleasantly high, but I really _had_ been alright.

Well. Mostly.

But I'd dealt with my particular problem, the Professor didn't _need_ to be here. And we _definitely _shouldn't have been wasting time partaking in our little…well, whatever _that_ had been. I took comfort in my familiar anger. It was definitely better than trying to wonder what had just happened between us, or, more alarmingly, what it _meant_.

"This guy said he'd already run into someone. Said he attacked them. We need to find them _right now_." I tried to move quickly, pushing past the Professor who obligingly let me escape that distracting closeness we'd been sharing.

"You're hurt, don't be absurd-"

"Oh damn." I wasn't listening to his lecture anymore. Not because I didn't want to hear it, despite it being a perfectly valid reason. No, I wasn't listening because there were three figures looming in the doorway. Two men, and a woman. All unfamiliar. I raised my arm to fire just as the woman launched herself at me, my finger squeezing the trigger frantically while my other hand flew up, trying to block the blur of teeth that were coming at my face. She latched onto my shoulders and threw us both backward. I felt stitches in my leg burst as we went down, and I caught her teeth with my forearm. Better than my throat, I guess.

She screamed as I emptied the gun into what I _hoped_ was her stomach. It could have just as easily been the ceiling. I shoved her back, trying to get her knees out of my chest so I could breathe, and she raised both hands into the air, readying to drive her fingers into me like daggers. It didn't matter how many bullets I fired at her, she was going to fucking _kill me_.

The Professor came at her sideways, tackling her and they both rolled away as I gasped for air. I shoved myself up on my elbow, trying to help instead of just be relieved. Before I could, the other two came at me. The taller of them pinned my arm to the ground with his foot, crushing his weight against my wrist until my hand went limp and he kicked the gun aside as he laughed. He bent down and grabbed a handful of my hair, dragging me up to my feet. Tears burned in my eyes as agony spread from the base of my skull and rippled outward. I caught a brief glimpse of the Professor pummeling the woman as she struggled and hissed, grabbing at his hands. She moved like a snake, even with the blood oozing out of her middle and she finally twisted behind him, pinning him face down on the floor.

Teeth sank into my already bleeding arm and I cried out through gritted teeth. The other one jerked my head around like a rag doll. I took a swing at him but he caught my useless hand and crushed it again like a vice, squeezing the painfully bruised bones and pinning it against my chest until my back hit the wall. Apparently, it wasn't just enough to catch us, they wanted to toy with us a bit first.

Assholes.

I wanted to spit in his face, I wanted to bite back. I fucking _loathed_ him. But I was useless. Hopeless and hurt, and _useless_. He pulled me closer and sniffed at my throat, sharp teeth extending, pressing harder into my skin. A sob caught in my chest as I tried to struggle but there was nowhere to go.

"Please," I whispered to no one in particular. "Don't." My voice shook and I felt a hot tear slip down my cheek. Shame burned through me as the last of my dignity disintegrated.

"Le do thoil! Ná Gortaítear an duine. Tóg dom! Le do thoil. Tóg dom ina ionad!" The Professor's voice rang out and everything stopped. It might be delirium setting in, but I'm pretty sure he had just spouted nonsense. I blinked several times and tried to look at him from the corner of my eye. I still couldn't move much, but he was there, his face smashed into the floor, struggling beneath the woman's fist to see us clearly. But the fangs at my skin retreated, and the man turned to look at the Professor, clearly unhappy about being interrupted.

"Tá a fhios agat nach féidir linn" Was this the part where my brain was broken? That was a thing that happened, right? People suffer some kind of trauma and suddenly words sound all wrong? They were still talking, arguing it sounded like, but I wasn't really listening. My eyes searched nearby, desperate for any hope of respite. But there was nothing. Who was I kidding, there wasn't any fight left in me. All I really wanted to do was lay down and curl into a ball.

My head was really starting to throb now and each time the man spoke he moved, which reignited the wound on the back of my neck. The tears were coming again, and I blinked furiously, hating them just as much as I hated the man causing them. I focused on the Professor instead.

The woman, with one hand clamped across her bleeding stomach, was lifting away from the Professor. She was letting him go, but she didn't seem particularly happy about it. He pushed himself up from the ground slowly, every muscle in his body rigid. He glanced at me once, his jaw tightening. Yep. I'd gotten myself into trouble again. In record time, too. Then he directed his attention to the man who still gripped me by my scalp.

"Tá mé do rí. Ordaímse duit a fhágáil ar an long. díobháil aon duine." My wrist dropped suddenly and both the woman, and the man who had been feeding on my arm, started to retreat for the door. Only my buddy remained, apparently he didn't want to stop playing. The Professor reached into his pocket and retrieved the laser screwdriver. Where had _that_ been five minutes ago? "Scaoileadh léi. Anois." The words were still gibberish, but the tone was easy enough to recognize. It was the threat of death. He could be _really_ scary when he wanted to be. The moment seemed to last forever until finally the man relented, unpinning me from the wall and throwing me forward. I collided with the Professor and he caught me with his free arm as I sagged against him. Still he kept the screwdriver aimed at the man as he marched out of the door.

As soon as he disappeared, I collapsed. Whatever strength I'd had, had been spent past capacity ten minutes ago.

"Fitzgerald," he tried to keep me upright, but that was a silly idea, so instead he fell to his knees, helping cushion the blow. He tilted my chin upright, his frowning face looming over me, inspecting for new damage. "Are you alright?"

There wasn't any energy for a snarky comment, so I just rolled my eyes.

"Right. Stupid question." He nodded seriously, tucking the screwdriver away. I choked out a laugh, which turned to a hiccup. All of my emotions kind of bubbled up in my chest like a flood starting to spill over the banks. I didn't want to lose it, didn't want to fall apart like a blubbering baby. But we were probably past the point of no return.

"I've just," I tried to smile past the tightness in my throat. "I've just had a really shitty day." I managed to get out in a warbling voice before the dam broke completely. I sucked in a heaving sob and covered my face with the hand that hurt the least. "Sorry, sorry." I mumbled over and over again, shaking my head. I didn't know what else to do other than stop crying like an idiot, but apparently, that wasn't an option.

"It's alright." Instead of patting my shoulder awkwardly, which was my signature move; he wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me closer, my sobbing becoming muffled in his chest.

It had been a _really _shitty day.

He pressed his face into my hair and hugged my shoulders gently.

"I've got you. You're alright." Even though it wasn't remotely true, it still made me feel a little better.

* * *

**A/N 2: Hey guys. um. Possible minor spoilers ahead of the semi-distant kind, keep that in mind. I mean, they should probably be obvious, but who knows. **

**SPOILERS AHEAD. SKIP ALL YE WHO FEAR THE DARKNESS. **

**...  
**

**...**

**...They all gone? Great. So I've got a question. And I could _really_ use some feedback (pm works just as well if you don't want to be public in a review). This 'friend' of mine, let's call her 'Britless', is writing a story that involves a couple ultimately getting together... in the carnal sense. The last time said 'friend' wrote something like that, she including some kissing and then tactful fading to black. But this time she was considering not skipping it? She hasn't written much of that type of thing at all, and has no idea how it would turn out, but was up for the challenge. BUT she looked at her whole story and considered that most of it was pretty tame, and it would possibly horrify and shock readers to suddenly come across a smut chapter, that, while fits into the plot of the story, is still decidedly smutty. I mean, I know I'm writing my story, and it's my choice blah blah. I know that. But I really am writing it for YOU guys, so wanted to know if that would be a 'yay, totally do it!' or 'nooooo! save my innocence!' **

**...And if it were to lean in the 'yay' direction, er...how explicit is one allowed to get? On a scale from 1-10.**

**For my _friend_... 'Britless'. I'm asking for her. So please tell me! Seriously guys, even if you never ever speak to me. Please. Like, I'm making this face right now ?:/**

**I don't even know what that face _MEANS_.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you everyone for the fabulous feedback! Hope you had a lovely holiday! And thanks Summer Rosewood for your review-a-thon of Starlight!**

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The zero room was just as silent and ominous as I remembered it last. Though, it was hard to recall some of the specifics that made it unpleasant before. I had been a bit out of it. Still, there was a general…_ugh_ that radiated from the pearly white walls. It made you miss the hominess of the med bay. Well, it made you miss shelves anyway. And furniture. Something to identify it as more than empty space. But that room was a huge mess still. On account of me. That made me slightly less enthusiastic to return. Or even think about it.

Rhysik was here, which was some comfort, even if he wasn't conscious. Apparently when you suck a time lord dry like a Capri-sun, it's impossible for them to regenerate. You know who is privilege to that kind of creepy information? Other time lords. More specifically, other, really screwed up, seeking revenge, time lords. The ones that had run right into Rhysik. Which meant that out of this cluster fuck of unlucky people on the ship, he'd managed to be the unluckiest. That qualified him for some kind of award; it was just too bad the award was him mostly dead. So now, he was laying there in the center of the room. Possibly dying, possibly recovering. There wasn't really a good way to tell.

Of course, he wasn't on a bed. No. That would have been too normal. Apparently the rules of gravity, or physics, or whatever it was that should prevent people from floating on a bed of air peacefully, didn't apply here. If I wanted, I could be sitting on an equally invisible chair. If I had listened closely to the Doctor when he was explaining it, I might have understood why. But I settled on 'complicated' just like everything else on this ship. And my life.

So I was more than happy to just sit my ass on the damn floor like a normal person.

Ailla left, not too long ago. We hadn't said more than a handful of words to each other. This wasn't like the silence in front of the cave, this was thicker, impossible to penetrate. She just watched the slow steady rise and fall of Rhysik's chest, hoping it would continue. She'd finally gotten too agitated to sit still and had left the room when it became clear he wasn't planning on making a miraculous recovery any time soon. I was too busy thinking about what a shit person I was to offer any consolation. Besides, what would I say? Hey, sorry your friend might be dying. Sucks how you almost escaped together, but then at the last minute, he's totally not gonna make it. Bummer.

Also, I kissed your old boyfriend that I encouraged you to get back together with.

Nope. Keeping my mouth shut had been the best option. By a landslide.

Besides, I was too wrapped up in my own crap. Like, you know. I had _killed_ someone. How about that? It wasn't just a random accident either, I had taken a weapon, and fully intending to, killed someone with it.

It was him or me. He was a monster. He was probably the one who had attacked Rhysik. He tried to kill me.

I could argue with myself all day long, and a small part of me knew I was right. If I hadn't shot him, I'd be dead. But the rest of me still fought the logic. Insisted it was wrong. And it was. Because it had been so _easy_. One quick flex of my index finger and I'd turned a living breathing thing into nothing at all. It was just really really screwed up.

Speaking of screwed up. You know the one thing occupying my mind more than the guilt of _murdering a person_? The Professor. Which didn't really help distract from the guilt, it just seemed to make it worse. Because I'm guessing one thing you're not supposed to be thinking about after finding out you're a stone cold killer, is your god damn libido. I definitely shouldn't have been thinking about how good it felt pressed against him, or how eager I'd been to return the kiss. I shouldn't be thinking about it at _all_. I was a bad person. I did a bad thing. I do not get to be secretly excited about some impulsive gesture that meant nothing at all. I mean, he'd done the same thing to Ailla, right? Okay. That sure hadn't felt the same. And there was substantially more participation on his part from what I could tell. But. I don't know. The important thing to keep telling myself, was that it didn't matter. When things got stressful, people did stupid unpredictable things. That's all it was. Stupid. And my brain needed to shut the hell up about it.

"I'll take a watch, if you like." I jumped about a thousand feet in the air at Donna's voice. She looked mildly guilty as she walked into the room, noticing the terror on my face. "You alright?"

No. Not at all. "Yeah. I'm okay. Sorry, you just startled me." You know, because I was too wrapped up in thoughts about me being a murderer, and the Professor, and inappropriate physical contact, and- Holy god. Am I in _serious_ need of an internal mute button. She reached out to help me stand, but I didn't really need it. My leg was definitely still sore, but the zero room was quite the miracle worker. Well, okay, some of my skin was still a bit tender. And if I clenched my hand into a fist, the bones in my wrist protested. _But, _considering the fact that I'd been carried in the room half conscious and bleeding profusely, I was in remarkable shape. Donna smiled, but apparently I still _looked _like hell because she wasn't very cheery.

"Didn't mean to sweetheart, maybe you should get some food in ya. That might help. Maybe a drink too." She winked. Probably not enough booze in the universe to make me feel any better about today, but I should investigate anyway, just in case I was wrong.

"Thanks Donna," I hesitated. If there was one person I desperately wanted to talk to, it was her. I knew that, not just wanted to, but _needed _to. Still, there was that refusal. Not for any sensible reason, just because…well. I just couldn't right now. It all felt twisted and broken inside. Donna would just try and reassure me that I'd done the right thing. Right now, I didn't _want_ to feel better. Well, not immediately anyway. But I certainly wasn't ready to brush it off and move on. Not that I could.

Plus, once we got past that whole bag of issues, then I'd have to lie about just how much the Professor had been involved. Maybe not _lie_, but avoid the truth very carefully. Which would basically be the same thing as lying, especially to Donna. I opened my mouth, still thinking maybe I'd do it anyway, consequences be damned.

"You sure you're alright?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. I nodded. The last thing I wanted to be was the tediously annoying human who was constantly a source of trouble and drama. I liked Donna, and ideally, she still liked me. Let's see if we can keep it that way for now.

"Just tired." I stretched my arms and headed out. I'd talk to her later, after I could keep the self-loathing voices in my head to a minimum. Easier to have a conversation that way.

As soon as the door slid shut behind me, I realized with an unpleasant clarity that I was not ready at all to be wandering on my own. Maybe Rhysik hadn't been conscious, but he'd been a reassuring presence. The halls of the TARDIS had none of the familiar hum to it, it was quiet, waiting, and curiously empty feeling. This wasn't helping my impending psychotic episode at all. I headed to my left, thinking sleep would be best. Sleep and a lobotomy that erased the last few days. Was that a thing? Someone should definitely make that a thing. But then sleeping meant being alone too, _and_ out of control of my thoughts.

Could not think of a better recipe for disaster.

Control room it is, the Doctor was bound to be there. He'd be the easiest to avoid a real conversation with too, because I could just use the magic words 'what does this do' and he'd be lost in his own explanations for the better part of an hour.

Unfortunately, he wasn't alone when I arrived. I was halfway up the stairs before I realized that.

"That's because it doesn't make sense." Ailla had her back to me and her arms crossed tight around her chest. "You just commanded them to leave?"

"Yes." The Professor spotted me as I tried to make a hasty retreat. But the look in his eyes was so piercing that it almost felt like he'd reached across the room and grabbed me. So much for thinking things might be normal. Definitely making an effort to avoid him now. It was sort of my go-to solution these days. Whatever. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

"If _commanding_ them worked, there would have been a hell of a lot more of my team left alive." Ailla's voice had a sharp edge to it.

"Ah, hello Fitz." The Doctor spotted me where I had frozen. Unable to retreat under the Professor's penetrating stare, but also unwilling to step further into what sounded like an awkward conversation. An awkwardness the Doctor had just invited me into to try and diffuse. Damn him. "Feeling better?" The weak smile he offered suggested he knew just as well as I did what a stupid question it was.

"Yeah, thanks." If I wasn't going to be honest about anything else, why start now? I climbed the remaining stairs and joined the circle. Ailla turned, looking for the first time almost human. Exhausted, fragile. No less radiant, but diminished enough that it scared me a little.

"Well, that's excellent to hear-"

"Is that what happened?" Ailla's tone was softer, but she was determined to get her answers. Why she thought I'd be the one to get them from, I had no idea.

"Well…" my eyes flicked to the Professor. No. Bad idea. You know what else was a bad idea? Thinking about what had happened. That _things_ teeth on my throat. Another slurping at my arm. The very real fear that this was the end and I was going to die being scared shitless and torn apart by animals.

"He just told them to stop and they did?" She prompted me when the silence had dragged on too long.

"I guess?" I said with an uneven voice. "I don't really understand what he said. But it kind of looked like that's what happened. I mean, one minute they were…" nope, couldn't finish that thought. "And then they left."

Ailla frowned, unimpressed with my answer. "This will go faster if you just show me." She shook her head, annoyed, and started to walk toward me. What? Show? What the hell was that supposed to-

"No!" I blurted out as she reached for my temple. Not only was that way too close to my personal bubble space, but it suddenly registered that 'showing' was really time lord for 'reading your damn thoughts'.

"It's not going to hurt." She chided me, like that was my issue with it. Not the whole serious invasion of privacy.

"It's because I was speaking Gallifreyan." The Professor interrupted Ailla and she stopped trying to assault me. I was about to silently thank his good timing when I remembered- Oh _christ_. The Professor. She would see what we had- Wow. No. No _thank you_. That is not happening. Not in a thousand million years. Note to self, do _not _let Ailla come within five feet of you. Ever. "They called me their king."

"Their _what_?" The Doctor sounded just as confused as I was. _King_? What, of the crazy people on fantasy island? That was…

Well, actually…that fit alarmingly well. Still. _What_?

"For the war." Ailla said. "We needed a commander. Someone who could control the army we'd created. The Council had drawn up several options. They must have decided…" Her voice trailed away, but she didn't need to finish the thought.

"So they resurrected the Master." The Doctor's jaw tightened. "Because he was the most dangerous man they knew. They made you the Could've Been King." He shook his head. "Did you- Have you been remembering things again?" That had my full attention. Would have been nice if I'd been slightly less obvious about it. Looking directly at the Professor and having all the color drain out of my face probably wasn't very subtle. He held my gaze a moment before answering.

"No." God. Why was that such a relief? Well, because I'd have a shit ton of explaining to do if his answer had been 'yes'. "They said they couldn't-" his eyes were on mine again and I stared intently at the various scratches on the TARDIS floor. There were surprisingly few. "They implied they were unable to kill me. Specifically because they'd been programmed to obey my instruction. I came across the information purely by accident."

"That would have been nice to know earlier." Ailla clearly wasn't in the mood. I kind of agreed with her, I mean, it was nice the Professor had figured it out at _all_. But if he'd managed to do it before, maybe Rhysik would be okay. We'd all be plenty less beat up. I probably wouldn't have had to kill anyone. And he wouldn't have kissed me.

Well. That's assuming that was a bad thing. It was, right? Yes. Bad. Wrong. It just made things needlessly complicated. I mean, I _had_ enjoyed it, but that didn't mean it should have happened. Or it should happen again. It had been a bit of a dry spell for me recently, so I'd probably be just as happy if Jack had done it. Or the Doctor.

Ew. No. Definitely not the Doctor. Don't even try and picture-

Crap. Too late.

Bleh. Bleeeeh.

"Good? Why would that be _good_?" Ailla's suddenly aggressive tone made it clear that I'd missed some of the conversation. Too busy trying not to imagine the Doctor's gangly limbs making out with _anything_.

"Because now we know we can control them. At least temporarily." He was using his placating tone as he spun around the console, flipping a number of unfamiliar switches.

"Control? What the hell for?" Ailla was strongly against whatever this was. Was he talking about _them_ them? As in, the them that had tried to murder us all? Whatever this plan was, if it involved any more contact with that little army of death outside, I wanted none of it.

"Because it will make it substantially easier to help them if we're not worried about them slitting our throats." He plucked up the silver cube from where it had been sitting and tossed it into the air once. "If we can change the programming, sort out the messy bits that the Council scrambled them with, I think they can come back. For now, we'll settle for just extracting the Matrix from the time lock. Shouldn't be overly complicated with the excess of time vortices we've got on hand now." He grinned at Ailla but no one shared his enthusiasm.

"You're not seriously suggesting that we _help_ them." I took a step back when I realized I was between the Doctor and Ailla, an incredibly dangerous place to be if her tone was anything to go by.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not suggesting anything. I'm _telling_ you. We banished them, tore them out of time itself, and when that wasn't enough, we experimented on them in the name of a needless war. I'm trying to save them-"

"They aren't worth saving. They're _monsters_." She spat, her arms shook as she took a step forward, standing inches from the Doctor.

"They're just confused." The Doctor explained, heedless of the very real threat that was radiating off of Ailla. "They were _made_ to be that way. We inflicted them with a rabid cruelty. But we can fix it Ailla, we can help these people."

"Don't you _dare_." Her voice was a harsh whisper. "Don't you even think about it. They killed my whole team. Who knows how many others were trapped here. And don't forget, these aren't innocent time lords Doctor. They are the Unwritten. They were broken long before we came along and did anything to them. They're not capable of redemption. They're not even capable of being _people_ again. They weren't before, and they certainly aren't now. It was a mistake what we did, but nothing can change that. How could you even want that? You hunted a few of them down yourself. You know what they are. Why would you think they could ever be helped?"

"Because they have to be." The Doctor spoke through clenched teeth, gripping her shoulders tight. His eyes were desperate, angry, and horrible. "You weren't there in the end, Ailla. No one _won_ the war. We all lost. I'm the only one who survived, and I had to- Had to destroy them. They're all gone, Daleks. Time Lords. Gallifrey, it's all-" He stopped, trying to regain his composure. "We have to help them because there's no one else. We're all that's left. We _have_ to save them. I have to make it right."

The long painful silence that followed was easily one of the least comfortable moments I'd spent on the TARDIS. And there had been many. Ailla shook her head with a frown, but offered no argument beyond that. The Professor was silent, but even he looked shocked. I wondered absently how close he had come to becoming one of the Unwritten in his past lives.

The Doctor saw this as an opportunity to redeem himself. To wash away some of the blood from his hands. It was hard to deny him that. If you'd killed your entire species and came across a lifeboat filled with crazies, would you still try and save them? Of course you would. Any hope, no matter how fine a thread, was still hope. I was having regrets over killing _one_ man, and he'd been trying his damnedest to kill me. The guilt that came with destroying a whole race, your _own_ race? Well. That was…that sucked.

Some days, I understood just how much I didn't envy the Doctor.

"I don't believe you." Ailla finally shrugged out of his grip, but it was obvious she did from the way she avoided meeting his eyes.

"Ailla-"

"Don't. Don't say anything to me." She hissed at him. She glanced once in the Professor's direction before she turned around, marching down the stairs and disappearing.

"I'm sorry." He spoke to the empty space where she had been. "I'll fix this. I'll make it right."

He was still going to try. Knowing that she'd hate him for it. Knowing that it was probably hopeless. The people he was trying to save were not only going to end up demented, but probably also incurably evil. Because that's how they'd always been. He was going to try and save the Army of Meanwhile's and Neverweres anyway, because he had to. He was the Doctor.

"You can't." It was a second after that I realized I'd said it out loud. If there were a shittier time to remember the TARDIS' cryptic message for the Doctor, I couldn't think of one. The way his eyes snapped to mine, the rage and hurt still fresh. It was so uncomfortable I thought about shutting my damn mouth. "When…when I was in the holodeck place. After we dealt with Rassilon. I spoke with the voice interface. It…he said you couldn't save them."

"What did you say?" The Doctor sounded dangerous as he closed the distance between us. The silly bow tie was not making him any less intimidating this time. Yep. Should have kept my mouth shut. Was it too late to laugh and pretend I was joking?

Probably.

Did I want to try anyway? Absolutely.

Relax. He's your friend. He's just in a bad place right now. And he's _probably_ not going to kill you. Even though he's more than capable of it. Try not to think about that last part.

"He asked me to pass a message. It-" Looking directly at him was a poor choice. The fact that I could _feel_ the air vibrating around him wasn't making things any easier. I took a breath. If he did kill me, he'd probably make it quick. Something to look forward to. "The Meanwhile's and Neverweres were already lost." It hadn't made any sense at the time. But now it all clicked into place. I didn't even question how a _ship _would know something like that because it didn't matter. Every bone in my body told me it was the truth. A shitty and really unwanted truth.

A range of emotions flickered across the Doctor's features as he processed what I had said. The one he finally settled on was fury.

"You didn't think perhaps that was the kind of information I might have needed to know immediately? That perhaps that was the sort of thing that was _important_ for you to share-"

"Doctor." The Professor's tone was a warning as he stepped forward. I hadn't even seen him approach; the Doctor's giant head and crazy eyes had been thoroughly occupying my attention. His head whipped around, looking no less furious at the interruption. At least it bought me some time before the end. Maybe I could come up with some classy last words. "I was there as well. It was an obscure message at best. The type that could only make sense within context. And if you recall, it was a rather trying day for everyone." He raised an eyebrow in my direction. Sure. Remind him I was here. Great move.

The Doctor's scowl deepened and I thought maybe he decided to kill us both. He looked back at me, and then something changed. He blinked several times, as though just realizing I was there. Fury and ice and rage all melted away to leave a helpless despair in its wake.

"Fitz. I'm sorry." He croaked, turning to the console and leaning against it with a hunched back. "I just-" he shook his head. "I'm so sorry. Thank you for telling me." He offered a pained smile over his shoulder and let out a slow breath. He didn't resume his frantic and indecipherable dial twisting. He just stood there. The last of his species. Again. And I'd been the one who'd extinguished the last hope that it might be otherwise. Good going.

My feet had carried me over there before I actually had a plan. Once I was standing directly behind the Doctor, I felt like an idiot. Yet another situation where I had no idea what to say. Knowing that even if I did say the right thing, it wouldn't make anything better, I couldn't change the past. That didn't make me hate seeing him like this any less. Granted, he had scared the hell out of me before, and for my blood pressures sake, he should probably contain that a bit better. If I hadn't been so busy hating myself, I might be more upset by his behavior, but honestly, when _haven't _I lost my temper? I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged as I pressed my cheek against his back.

"You're not a bad person." It was true. No matter the horrible shit things that had happened. I knew it was. He stood completely still, probably surprised, but more than likely just annoyed at my attempt to ease some of his burden. Then a cool hand squeezed my own and I let out a relieved breath. He tilted his head down and kissed the back of my hand and I had to swallow back the lump in my throat. Maybe things weren't so awful anymore, if only by a little.

"Thank you Fitz." He didn't turn around, but I squeezed him once more, just to make sure he knew I had meant it. Here's hoping it was remotely comforting. "Perhaps," he said as I turned to leave. "Perhaps you might speak with Ailla."

"Alright." Speak to her? About _what_? Well, I knew very well what. But how, and more importantly, why had I been the one nominated? Because I was by far the least qualified of the group. But apparently today was group hug day. Yeah, we'll just hug it out. Sorry your entire race was destroyed and you just now found out. Have a hug!

This was going to go fantastic.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Oh, right. I was supposed to updating this thing in a timely fashion. Right-o. Better get on that. If you're mad now, just wait till I tell you about my other story that I'm- Oh...oh you know about how poorly I've been updating that one too? Hm. Yeah. well. This is awkward. So I'm going to go. Over there.**

* * *

Jack stopped me before I managed to escape the bridge, wiping his hands on a filthy towel. I didn't need to stare too closely to know exactly what kind of stains were on it.

"Heya Fitz," He said, mustering up a smile as he saw me. "The mess is pretty well gone if you need to get anything from the med bay." Oh yeah, I wanted to hop right back over there. I'm sure the smell of space bleach or whatever the hell you used to clean up bits of brain and skull was just the thing I needed to help me relax. "Grabbed this for you too," he reached behind his back and produced the pistol I'd left behind. My stomach did a hard lurch and I shook my head, trying not to imagine the last time I had used it.

"No. Thanks but no." I stepped back from him, wanting to make sure he didn't accidentally drop it into my hand. I bumped into the Professor, which normally would have been awkward, but I was too busy trying not to have a panic attack that I sort of ignored it. Besides, 'operation avoidance' was well underway and there was already plenty of a mess in my head that I was trying to clean up. I didn't need to add whatever had happened between the Professor and me on top of that.

"Er, are you sure?" Jack raised his eyebrow, surprised by my response. "It sure seemed like it came in handy."

Yeah, it sure had. That was exactly why my stomach was trying to dry heave right now. "No. I'm good. I'll stick to running and hiding." Or dying, but right now that somehow seemed better than the alternative. I had no idea if the Doctor heard, or was even paying attention to us, but I didn't look back. If nothing else, I learned definitively that I agreed with him on the whole gun issue. Something in my tone or slightly panicked face must have registered with Jack, because that doubtful look he was wearing faded and was replaced with one of understanding.

"Alright," he nodded. "That works too. Look, if you ever need to talk about…what happened." He offered as he stuffed the gun back where he had retrieved it. That casual bravado slipped away and I was reminded again that Jack was just as screwed up as the rest of us, and could probably be exactly the person I needed to talk to.

"Thanks, I will, but I've got…kind of a thing going on right now-No." I said sharply when I noticed a grin spread across his face as he looked at the imposing figure over my shoulder. I knew exactly what he was thinking. "Not that kind of thing."

"What? I didn't say anything." He shrugged, not looking the least bit sorry. "Good luck with your _thing_. I'm going to get a drink." About ninety percent of me wanted to join him. The other ten wanted to punch him in the face. But then some of that ninety reminded me that I couldn't just drink myself into a stupor until I at least _tried_ to talk to Ailla. Jack turned down the hall and I set off on my hopeless quest to track down a cranky time lord.

"That wasn't altogether wise, was it?" The Professor's presence was really starting to grate on me, especially since I was kind of hoping he would just go away so it wasn't so obvious I was trying to ignore him.

"What?" I didn't look back, maybe if I kept my answers short, he'd stop talking and find something else to do with his time. That would at least solve one of my kajillion problems.

"Refusing the gun? It may very well be the only reason you're still alive." Like I needed the reminder.

"I know that." I sighed, pausing to acknowledge him. I didn't have a good reason for not wanting it back, or at least not a reason I could really explain. "I'm just- I can't right now, alright?"

A flicker of what might have been understanding, thought I seriously doubted it, passed over his face and he gave a short nod. "Alright."

Well, at least that was one less argument to have.

"Did you know?" The voice surprised me and I spun around only to find Ailla directly in my face. She was looking…unhappy to say the least.

"Uh…hey Ailla." That's it. That's all I had prepared. God I _suck_. Her accusatory eyes switched from me to the Professor.

"Did you know what had happened? What he'd done?"

"No. Though I had some suspicions when he made no attempt to return me to the Council." The Professor still had his handy little amnesia bit working in his favor, the bastard. Her eyes locked onto me again, like I had single handedly taken down the time lords just to piss in her cheerios.

"And you?"

I could lie, she'd probably believe me too. And I'd be in loads less trouble. But the longer I'm hesitating here- yep, threshold for lying convincingly has officially been surpassed. Dammit. "Er. Kind of?" Apparently, today was 'get busted for not sharing shitty news in a prompt fashion' day. I'd be sure to mark that one down in the calendar so that next year I could bake a cake and then in big pink frosted letters, write 'Everything blows. Sorry'. Her eyes darkened and I felt myself unconsciously leaning back from her. Guess we weren't going to do the hugging thing. That _was_ kind of a relief, since I'd already passed my quota for that by about a thousand percent today.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Her words were deliberate and clipped. The urge to run was quickly becoming my favorite. It looked like she was contemplating strangling me, or lighting me on fire. Maybe both. What was it they used to say about being the messenger? Oh yeah, _don't_.

"Are you kidding me?" My voice jangled nervously. Now was the time for patience and understanding, it was just too bad I'd burnt through my reserves for that kind of thing. I was already coming apart at the seams. It was a miracle I wasn't just lying on the floor and making the occasional bird noise. So the fact that I was being a little flippant should be permissible. Hopefully. "Why would I _say_ anything? I mean, when I say 'kinda' I mean I sort of knew because it had been mentioned in an offhand way. Not because me and the Doctor had a big chat about how he killed his entire race and then we had a laugh about it. Why would I ever bring something like that up? It doesn't come up in conversation, and I had no idea you _didn't_ know. And to top it off, and I _really_ the person you'd want to hear it from?" I knew we were friends, but I was really asking if she wanted that kind of news from a _human_. From the way her eyes dropped, she caught my meaning.

Her shoulders tensed as she shook her head, looking like she was determined to tell me why I was wrong, why I should have told her everything the first second we met. But then all the fight melted out of her and she was suddenly just a person, not a mystical time lord warrior who could break me with her fist. "No." She whispered. "I'd rather not heard it at all."

Yeah, well, that made the two of us. Unfortunately, unhearing it wouldn't make it any less true. But I'm guessing she knew that.

"How am I ever going to tell Rhysik?" She asked. I hoped the question wasn't directed specifically at me, because I sure as shit didn't know. "_If_ he even wakes up." Ouch. Another pleasant reminder on this most fantastic of days.

"He'll be fine." I lied. No idea if he was going to recover. Actually, she probably knew the odds of him improving better than I did. Which meant it was fairly obvious that I was just saying it for her sake. This talk wasn't really going very well. At all. Maybe if I just throw myself at her, I could still try hugging. And then make a run for it.

Something told me an attack hug would go down about as well as my 'he'll be fine' so I decided to skip it. I wanted to fill the silence with something, but saying sorry just felt like an empty reflex. I mean, I _was_ sorry, but that just didn't quite cut it in the tsunami of a shitty day Ailla was having. The uncomfortable silence grew longer as I tried to look at anything other than her, wishing that the Professor might find something to say, but that was a laugh. My eyes settled on the steel doors down at the end of the hall and I recognized them as the ones that opened into the holodeck. I cringed internally for a moment before a flash of inspiration hit me.

"Hey, come on, I want to show you something." Ailla gave me a strange look as I stepped forward. Probably because I sounded _way_ too enthusiastic for our somber mood. It was just an idea, not a cure for cancer. Take it down a notch, skippy.

"I'm not interested." She sounded more annoyed than angry. The kind of tone an overworked parent might apply to one of their excessively energetic children. But, I always kind of assumed they thought of me as a child, so I didn't take as much offense to it as I should have.

"Yeah, I know. Might be totally lame, but humor me for like, five minutes." She was going to say no again, I could just see it. She looked a bit irritated now. You know what? This was the only good idea I'd had on this trip, and dammit, she was going to indulge me. I grabbed her hand before she could protest and started to march her down the hallway, opening the door and pulling her inside. My heart seized in my chest as we walked through the black murk and then into the familiar gray interior. It had been a place I'd been deliberately avoiding for some time. Nothing good ever seemed to happen here. Still, thought I'd be over it by now. The way my palms started to sweat suggested I wasn't. Great. Another thing to push aside to deal with later. Right now, it was just a room. Not really the appropriate time to have my own personal meltdown. Especially since I'd already had one today. No need to be greedy.

"You wanted to show me the psychic interface?" She sounded doubtful.

"Kind of, bear with me," That anger of hers was starting to reemerge. While having a shouting match might be a nice distraction for the fact that she'd just learned her whole race had been obliterated, I didn't especially want to be on the receiving end of that. "Think of Gallifrey. I would do it, but my version is a little…." Filled with undead skeletons that can physically attack you? "It's a little messed up." I smiled in a way I hoped was encouraging.

"Fitz," she said with that tedious sigh again. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it won't be the same." Her face was hollow, like even mentioning Gallifrey had torn open a fresh wound. Maybe this had been a crap idea after all.

"I know this computer generated stuff normally looks- It's different. I'm…sort of a freak," that was the most succinct explanation I could come up with. "Just try it, it'll be worth it." I really _really_ hoped it'd be worth it.

She stared at me, still thinking about refusing. But it looked like she decided it would be over more quickly if she just stopped arguing. "Fine." She said in a clipped tone, closing her eyes and taking in a slow breath. For a heartbeat, nothing moved, but then it started to shift all at once. The walls rippled and vanished, the ground sprouted up beneath our feet, red stalks growing from seemingly nothing and a familiar red tinged hillside began to build itself around us. I reflexively closed my eyes, afraid I was going to turn around and see that half-ruined domed city in the distance, and the same dead woman crawling toward me.

I opened them reluctantly, knowing it wouldn't do me any good not to see her coming. But the world around me was different, we were somewhere else entirely. No zombies in sight, so that was a good sign. It was still definitely the same red hued planet, two suns hung in the sky above us, but we were on more of a plateau at the base of some towering mountains behind us. Further away, the ocean spread out below us, but it was far enough that I could manage.

"It's…" Ailla had also opened her eyes, staring up over my shoulder where a large gleaming building that looked like it was made entirely of glass sat at the top of the small hill we were standing on. "It's the Blyledge Estate…it even _smells_ the same." A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she turned around, kneeling to gather a handful of grass. "This…it's incredible." She sounded both surprised and awed by the revelation.

"Told you. I'm special." I pulled out the pocket watch for her to see. "Who said there aren't any perks to being possessed by a time lord?" For once, my time with Rassilon had resulted in something that wasn't complete shit. What a surprise. Still didn't make me any less furious with him. I gave the watch a shake, hoping that even though he was just a floating consciousness, he could still develop migraines.

She stood up and pointed to a handful of dark trees below us. "I used to pick Uill's from that tree and eat so many I'd make myself sick." She let out a laugh. I used to do the same thing with fruit roll-ups, but maybe now wasn't the time to share. "Can I?" She halted her footsteps, looking back to see if moving might ruin the effect.

"Knock yourself out." I shrugged. "It's not really- I mean, it's not _really_ Gallifrey. I just thought it might…" What? Thought it might be better than nothing? That's a terrible way of putting it.

"No. It isn't." She agreed. "But it's more than I ever thought to see again. It's a chance to say goodbye at the very least." She swallowed and turned back to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders briefly. "It's lovely. It really really is." She smiled, her eyes slightly more watery than I remembered and headed down the hill, pausing to touch each new rock or tree she came across. I let out a relieved breath, grateful that it hadn't gone in the totally opposite direction I'd feared, and half expected. It was nice to have things work out, once in a while.

"That was a nice gesture." The Professor didn't sound like he thought it was a good thing. Too bad he'd come along at all.

"Yeah, I'm a real Mother Teresa."

"I beg your pardon?"

"She's a…never mind. Forget I said anything." Even when I forgot, there was always something to serve as a reminder that he was just as alien as he looked. "You having any crisis? I hear if I help three time lords in a day, I get a free toaster." And everyone knows, toast is delicious.

"Not precisely. Though," he added, "If you have a moment-" He was interrupted by a harsh cry that had me nearly diving to the ground. It was more my 'make a smaller target' stance, but I was ready to make a run for the door if necessary. Yeah. Awesome. Just go ahead and abandon everyone. That's me. A real god damn hero.

When my heart rate dropped back down enough for me to think clearly, I realized the landscape hadn't turned back into the warzone I'd been expecting. It was just Ailla down below. She had collapsed against the tree, a bright green fruit held in her hands as she slid to the ground.

"Oh crap." So it had been a shitty idea _disguised_ as a good one. Note to self, let other people handle the whole 'ideas' thing from now on.

The Professor looked toward me. "Perhaps you should speak with her again?" He suggested as we both stood there, watching awkwardly.

I tried not to laugh. "I don't know anything else to say. I mean, this was my only plan. I don't even-" My eyes trailed down to where I could see Ailla's form shaking as she sobbed. I could say sorry a thousand times and it'd mean literally nothing. My eyes turned back to the Professor. "I'm guessing she'd rather talk to you."

"_Me_?" He scowled, as though it was such a shocker that anyone would want to talk to him. Well, okay…maybe that _was_ a surprise.

"Yeah, _you_. You know, since you're another time lord who's just been informed his entire race has been exterminated?" He actually seemed to be handling the information rather well, but then, who knows what really goes on in that brain of his. He could be having a full-blown tantrum and I'd never know. "She could probably use a friend right now, one that has the slightest clue as to what she's going through. That rules me out." Of course, there were other reasons that she might be more interested in speaking with him than me, but those were reasons he could figure out for his damn self.

"I'm hardly a friend." He said skeptically.

"Then go _be_ one." I said, giving him a push. He was being a real pain about this, but then maybe I was being unfair. He was probably more used to _causing_ women to weep, and this would be his second female crisis for the day. "Besides," I said, careful to avoid his direct gaze. "You're surprisingly good at making people feel less shitty when they fall apart." That was as close as I was going to get to thanking him. "When you're not being a jerk." I added quickly. Actually, that was as close as I was going to get to acknowledging it had ever occurred. I planned on burying that whole mess deep in my pit of 'things that never happened'. His head still shot up in surprise but I was too busy inspecting an errant cloud in the sky to notice. Mostly.

"That's incredibly reassuring."

"Yeah, well. I'm actually _really_ bad at that sort of thing. Which is another excellent reason why you should go down there and make with the comforting." I shooed at him. "And be _nice._" He made a scoffing noise in his throat.

"Very well." He finally said, sounding not confident at all. That made me smile a little. "I'll go and _try_." My smile faded as he walked away, only now realizing that I was pushing him directly into her path. How's that for some seriously fucked up self-sabotage? Whatever. There had to _be_ something there for me to ruin it, right? Nothing happened.

Okay, but nothing _important_ happened. It wasn't like he'd confessed this secret love of me. Maybe it was just a cultural thing. Kissing was a time lords way of saying 'oh good, you didn't die this time'. It wasn't like I could ask about it either. Maybe I could have before, back when he was a blond and had _some_ kind of facial expression. At least I could drop a hint or two and get some idea of how he might respond. But this version? It was like reading a brick wall. And as far as _hinting_? He'd probably pick up on that about as well as the Doctor, which would mean not at all. No. You know what? I wasn't going to run myself in circles like this. I wasn't going to come up with some plan how to proceed. I just wasn't going to bring it up at all. Not now, not ever. Because it would be _stupid_. Whatever mixed emotions I thought I might be having could just go smother themselves before someone came along and smothered them for me. Humans and time lords did not mix, especially when there were other, ex-girlfriend, time lords to consider.

This is me, letting it go.

My eyes kept drifting down to Ailla and the Professor, he knelt next to her, his low voice just drifting up the hill.

"Oh stop it." I grumbled as I caught myself leaning to see if I could hear better. I turned around and instead watched the ocean swirling in the distance. Despite my best efforts, I could still hear them.

"Voice interface?" Just as I was starting to feel like an idiot, the Doctor, or the Doctor's form, flickered into view. He frowned as he recognized me, twisting his hands together.

"Ah. Yes. My thief didn't handle that quite as well as he should have," he said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"You and me both." I grunted. Now didn't seem like the time to get into a blaming match with the same intelligence capable of painting my walls neon pink. "So, how long have I got before the room makes me go all…" I hadn't really been thinking about it the last time, but it had certainly taken its toll before. No reason to think it wouldn't again.

"Deceased?" He supplied in an uncomfortably casual tone.

"Uh. Yeah. That."

He considered a moment before answering. "You can sustain this current eco-stimulation for forty-four and a half minutes before expiring."

"Awesome." I wanted to fill the silence, but at the same time, I didn't really want to chat up the spaceship. "Make sure I get up in forty minutes, would you?" I lay back on the grass and brought my shoulders up to cover my ears, happy to find it effectively muted whatever conversation was going on behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something nice for a change, like puppies or skittles.

It mostly worked.


	18. Chapter 18

The good news, was that I decided to be a somewhat responsible adult and go actually have a talk with Jack. The jumping at shadows and the sudden cold sweats got annoying after the first day of relative 'peace' on the ship, obnoxious even. So I took Jack up on his offer and sat down with him to listen for a while. His stories were gruesome, and horrifying, and sometimes deeply unsettling. But it was also the kind of thing I needed to hear to even be able to start comprehending exactly what had happened to me. Jack also had a way of telling stories that made at least part of it humorous, or at least part of it sexy. I let him know pretty early on that I wasn't terribly interested in hearing about Captain Harkness' sex-capades across the galaxy, and being the good guy that he was, he only told like, two of his favorites.

After that, he just let me talk. Purging it out of my system without offering any judgments at all. Granted, I didn't need to tell him _everything_, but we discussed everything that was giving me nightmares. While I didn't exactly feel _better_ about the whole thing, but I was feeling less awful about it. Which was a step in the right direction. I was also starting to suspect that Jack might be one of those terrible people that your parents warned you against.

But yes, killing was hard to come to grips with. Especially since it was so terrifyingly _easy_ to accomplish. Sometimes it was right, and sometimes it was wrong. But if it had kept me in the world a little longer, as far as Jack was concerned, then I had done the right thing.

That was something anyway.

The bad news, was that right after the talk…well, actually, part of the way through it, we had started drinking. Heavily. And then we drank more. Substantially more. 'Ungodly amounts' might have been a good way to describe it.

So, the responsibility points I got for facing my fears head on and talking through them, had been sort of negated by the fact that I had drank enough liquor to kill a small elephant.

What I'm trying to say, is that I'd been nursing a hangover for the better part of the past two days. I had only just starting to feel mostly human again today around noon. I had written the afternoon off and opted for another day of hibernation when Donna stopped by. Seeing my bleary-eyed dedication to wearing sweatpants again, she invited herself in. After coming to the conclusion that I was still just a little too…ornery for public consumption, which may had been somewhat related to the fact that I kept asking her why she was shouting, when, apparently, she hadn't been; she set us up for a day filled with movies. She even brought popcorn. This is why Donna was, and always will be, my favorite. It was normal, and it was fun, and it was just the easy thing I needed immediately following Jack's trial by liquor to get me back to my carefully balanced spot between my usual plucky insanity and total all-consuming uber batshit psychosis. It was a very delicate line to tread.

She did mention the Professor once, which, considering it was _Donna_ was something of a miracle. She used the opportunity to point out that'd he'd been spending an awful lot of time with Ailla while I'd been buried in blankets and the smell of stale beer. She didn't say anything else about it, but the long lingering gaze she gave me just _screamed_ 'are you okay with that?' Instead of thinking about answering honestly, I ate another handful of popcorn and laughed aggressively at the movie. As well meaning as Donna was, I had _just_ gotten back to my happy calm place. I did not want to immediately throw a wrench into it all over again.

Of course, as soon as she brought it up, it was all I could think about.

I should have been fine with it. The kiss meant nothing, and it would be totally fantastic if Ailla and the Professor got together and had lots of little space babies and they all lived happily ever after. _Should_ was the keyword there. I _should_ be flossing too, but I think we all know how likely that is.

Instead, it was a complete and utter lie. One I kept trying to tell myself so I wouldn't have to deal with it on top of picking up the rest of the shattered fragments of my life. It should have made things easier, giving me one less headache to deal with.

_Should_.

It didn't. Because I was fixated on it, like worrying at a loose tooth, that I'd probably gotten from lack of flossing. God, dentists were just the worst. Self-righteous little- No. Off topic. I continued to think about it, while simultaneously lying to myself about how much I actually cared.

God dammit.

How I'd managed to put up with myself this long, I had no idea. Let alone _other_ people. That was where the root of my problem was though. Finally facing the music, I could admit to knowing what I wanted. Not out loud, and only in the hushed whispers of my head, but it _was_ there. A fact. I wanted the Professor. I'd only waffled on that about six or seven _hundred_ times, but there it was. But if I could hardly admit it to myself, how on earth was I _ever_ going to tell the Professor? Hah. That was a joke. That was the giant radioactive pile of fear that made me want to pretend that I was some emotionless boulder who was above such trivial things as wants and desires. It was all well and good in theory, but as soon as I opened my mouth? What happened if he isn't interested? What happened if he _was_? Were either of them less likely to end in some phenomenally screwed up way? One way ended in complete awkwardness for the remainder of my time on the ship, which would probably result in my eventual expulsion from the TARDIS. The other option? Well, the voices in my head reassured me several times that it was _impossible_, but I digress. Who's to say that wouldn't end just like the last time, where he _died_? There wasn't any scenario in my head that ended with us happy, or even remotely in the 'good' column.

The only worse situation I could think of, was the one I was experiencing now. The one where I was constantly chastising myself about what an idiot I was, or a coward, or stupid, unimportant. Basically, it was a big hate party that I'd been invited to, so that all my insecurities could go ahead and tell me how they _really_ felt. Like they'd been holding back all these years. It sucked.

So I'd decided. I was just…going to tell him. I was going to suck it up and stick to the 'responsible' trend I had been following. More so along the 'talk' line, and less the 'getting belligerently drunk' one, but you know what I'm getting at. I would just be upfront about it, if anyone could appreciate a straightforward talk about relationships, it would be the Professor. Mind you, that didn't mean divulging anything about our past, because, well, there was no need to make things more awkward than they were already guaranteed to be. Nothing says desperate like 'Hey, I like you, and you _used_ to like me, so WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK TO DOING THAT'. Yeah, I'd go ahead and steer clear of that business. Focusing on the here and now was the most important.

Thirty minutes, a shower, and a change of wardrobe later…I was still fumbling over what exactly to say. It didn't help that I'd probably had this kind of an honest conversation maybe a handful of other times in my entire life. It was just…easier being snide and bitter. And usually, that worked for me. Given enough time, maybe the Professor would pick up my thinly veiled hints about pining after him that were disguised in the form of insults about his character. Unfortunately, there was Ailla to deal with. Perfect, fantastic Ailla. Who seemed like just the kind of person that had no trouble coming clean about their feelings.

It was unfair to hate her for being such a good person. I mean, she had survived all this time by sheer determination, and she hadn't let it turn her into some kind of broken husk. If anything, it seemed like she was stronger for having come through it. And in a really strange turn of events, she was actually my _friend_. And I kinda liked her. It was childish to hate her for any of that.

I did it a little anyway.

I checked my reflection in the mirror for the sixth time. I'd decided on a nice flattering, and mildly low-cut, emerald sweater. And a short gray skirt for the bottom. If the sweater didn't do it, the skirt was definitely going to send up some red flags. Which is why I've had this conversation about a dozen times in my head about whether or not I should just wear jeans. Yet, I still hadn't pulled any on. God I felt like an idiot, I was getting all…all…_fancied_ up for him. What an undeserving bastard, he probably wouldn't even notice. But a small part of me remembered how he had acted the first time he'd seen me in that dress on Atlas. Sure, he was pretty oblivious, but he wasn't _completely_ immune to the female form. Did that make me a little bit warped for trying to prey on that weakness…?

A knock on the door startled me out of bending over in front of the mirror to see if the skirt was a little _too_ short. Because I'd end up doing toe touches and lunges at some point during our talk. Absolutely, that totally seemed like something practical to be prepared for. Jesus. I don't know, I was nervous. I turned around and spotted Donna's jacket draped over the back of the couch we had watched the movies on. I grabbed it as I walked past, wondering if maybe I should run this scenario past Donna. But then, that seemed like a terrible idea, because she'd get all excited about it, and then if I got shot down in flames, she'd _know_. The only thing worse than shame was _public_ shame. No. Not asking Donna questions.

But then, she's going to ask about the skirt, and the fact that I had showered. _Crap_.

I still didn't have a good idea of what to say when I slapped the button to open the door, which was good, because it wasn't Donna. It was the Professor. My hand that had stretched out to give her the jacket sort of dropped and the fake smile melted off my face. "Oh."

"Hello?" He said tentatively, clearly noticing my dismay. Probably should have made an attempt to hide that a little better. Oops. His eyes trailed down briefly, taking in my ridiculous outfit that was currently lacking shoes. Knew he was a pervert. "Are you…going somewhere?"

"Yes," I blinked. "No. Sorry. Hi. I just thought you were Donna, she-" I looked at the jacket and realized the couch had quietly un-materialized itself, so I just chucked it toward the closet. "Never mind. What's up?" I asked innocently. Like there was nooooo reason I'd want to see him. You big, fat, _chicken_. This is your big chance to come clean, and you're just going to clam up. Awesome.

"I actually ran into Donna earlier. She said you might be feeling better today. Thought I'd stop by since you haven't been around for a few days." That almost sounded like concern in his voice. Almost. Could have also been indigestion.

"Yeah," I scratched the back of my head, feeling like an idiot. Everyone seemed to notice disappearances in a small crowd. "Sort of had a headache…"

"Is that what you're calling it?" He asked mildly. "You and Jack seemed to be having quite the time when I last saw you." Okay, apparently everyone noticed when you went on a _bender_ in small crowds too. Damn. Had he been there? Oh, christ. Yes he had. Now I remember. There maybe have been some overly friendly hugging involved.

God.

Kill me now.

_Please_.

My face could not get any hotter as I tried to look at anything besides those damned eyes of his.

"Yeah. Um. It was good to…let off some steam. After everything." The smile on my face was so forced I probably looked like a deranged serial killer. Not that they came in a variety other than 'deranged'. This was going about as well as I'd hoped, and we'd yet to actually breech the subject. There was no way in _hell_ I was telling him now.

"Of course," he gave a polite nod, but I could feel every judgmental thought he'd ever had about me radiating off him in waves. "Anyway, I came by because I had hoped I could speak with you," The look he gave me suggested maybe he _had_ noticed the part where I had been tactfully avoiding him. Well, it wasn't very tactful if I got caught, so maybe I wasn't as crafty as I had thought. "I didn't realize you might have made plans…"

"Plans? Who makes plans on a spaceship?" I looked at him like he was nuts.

"I don't know," He sighed. "Perhaps you were meeting Jack for dinner."

Jack? What the hell would I be meeting Jack- I followed his gaze and realized that these were date clothes. I was wearing god damn date clothes. So I obviously had to be going somewhere.

"No, no. We're not-" How many times could you want to die in a day? "Just felt like wearing something new."

He watched me for a moment, probably seeing right through my lies. "Well, it suits you." He offered. "So would it be alright to speak with you now?"

"Sure," it physically pained me to agree, even if he was being polite. "Come in." A talk. Right. That was just the thing I'd been mustering the courage to go do. Maybe this would be the chance I needed. He walked inside and I made sure there was absolutely no one lingering in the hall that might have something important to say, or just anything that could save me from actually having to go through with this. No such luck.

Okay. Just…just look at him and _tell_ him. I was really going to do this. Absolutely. No turning back. Just as soon as I figured out…you know, _how_. I'd get right on it.

"Thank you." He half smiled as I closed the door again. Apparently, he was unaware of how reluctant I had actually been to let him in at all. His eyes darted around, taking in the room's details with interest when I realized the last time he'd been in here had been when we- Er. No. Forget that thought. We don't need to think about that. Regardless, the last time he'd been here, he didn't remember. So this was technically new to him.

"It changes a lot," I tried to swallow the tightness in my throat to no avail. "Like, there was a couch here just before you got here. And I used to have bunk beds, but she stopped bringing those out a couple weeks ago. I dunno why." Was I rambling? This sounded a lot like rambling. Shut. Up.

"Yes, the ship does like to keep things interesting. I've been meaning to speak with you about what happened in the medical bay." His eyes finally returned to mine with an unnerving focus.

I tried to keep my face impassive. Oh? The medical bay? What happened there? You mean when you kissed me so hard I forgot there were psycho killers on the loose? Is that what you're referring to? No, probably not. It would be silly of him to think about mentioning that since he was a robot, incapable of understanding that he couldn't do things like that to people he had no interest in. Because he was in love with Ailla…even though he was a robot…without feelings. The metaphor needed some work.

"I wanted to apologize," he said after a significant pause. "It was…it was inappropriate behavior. I may have gotten carried away with everything that was happening and I didn't intend for that to happen."

_May_ have? _May have_? Yeah, no _shit_ Sherlock. Most people don't get that 'carried away' unless they plan on putting out. "Sure," is what I said instead, nodding eagerly. "I mean, it _was_ a stressful day. It's no big deal. We're…we're friends. That sort of thing happens sometimes. It's totally fine." I might have been overselling it a little, but I was more occupied with burying my confession to him deep _deep_ inside where no one would ever hear of it again. _Ever_. At least he'd saved me the embarrassment of having been refused _after_ I opened my stupid mouth. That was nice of him, even if he'd done it unknowingly.

He nodded in agreement, but a curious frown caused him to pause. "Is that…does that sort of thing happen often with other 'friends' of yours?" It was hard to know if he were genuinely asking, or if he was mocking me. Either way, it had still caught me off guard.

"Well, no. Okay. Not exactly. But it's not like I used to get into this kind of trouble before, so it's not _quite _a fair comparison. I was just kinda saying that, I get it. You know? Like that time with you and Ailla. Well…or not," no, that wasn't the comparison I was wanting to make. "Because, I mean _you_ guys, you know. Clicked. But I get what you were saying." This was what this conversation was going to devolve into now anyway, wasn't it? Him explaining how kissing _me_ had been a mistake because he was actually interested in kissing _her_. And then he was going to ask for relationship advice because we were 'friends'. Ugh. I hate my life so hard. He should consider himself lucky that I was such a good sport and trying to make this as easy as possible on him instead of exposing him to the internal screaming I was currently experiencing.

"Clicked?" He was doing a great impression of the Doctor now, being willfully ignorant. Sure, why would he want to make this any less awkward than it needs to be? Where would the fun in _that_ be?

"Yeah, you know. _Clicked_. As in, together? Or 'more than friends'? It's great. She's amazing. I mean, really, she's just super." I sounded like some kind of Stepford wife spouting generic friendly things to say. Of course, they were _true_, which made me want to say them even _less_. He was looking at me in that calculating way, like he was trying to read my thoughts. I did my best not to look at the floor, because that would only make me look guilty. Or jealous. While both of those might be true, I didn't need him knowing that now. Or, alternatively, _ever_.

"You think we're…together?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well…yes? Maybe not 'together' together, but that's kind of the direction you're heading." No, that was _definitely_ the direction they were heading. Besides, it was always going to happen, it had been inevitable ever since we had run into Ailla in the TARDIS. Why should that be a surprise to anyone?

"What gave you that impression?"

Well, if I'd known he was going to want me to defend my theories, I would have made him a damn power point. "I guess, you guys have been having out a lot. And you've got a history together." I shrugged. I'd already mentally prepared the first two slides in my presentation. First card 'screw', second card 'you' with some kind of illustrative middle finger clip art.

"That is true. But _we_ have a history, do we not?" He was determined to get a rise out of me, for whatever reason. But the joke was on him. I'm not going to get flustered _and_ I'm going to prove my point.

"Okay, sure. But it's not like- I mean, you and Ailla had a long term thing, and it was…romantic," I said the word carefully. Mentally reminding myself to shut the hell up about the fact that I _also_ shared a romantic history with the Professor. Just…just shut up already. "Plus, you chose _her_ as a companion. I just kind of showed up with the luggage."

He frowned at me. "Are you also having trouble recalling memories?"

"Um. No?"

"It's just that I remember quite clearly a specific instance of asking you to come along. It was at that shopping establishment in that boorish little town. What did they call it again, WalCost?" He shrugged. "But, of course. You know I have my own struggles with memory, so perhaps I've got that wrong."

"Nope." I was not amused. Not by him calling my, admittedly boorish town, boorish. Not by that smug look on his face. "You got it right. But, that was probably just guilt from when I saved your ass."

"I assure you, it wasn't guilt that prompted me to come find you again." He had gotten quite serious there, and I wasn't really sure what to make of it. Or even why we were talking about it at all. When had this conversation gone so totally off the rails?

"Okay," I put my hands up in mock defeat. "All I was trying to say, is that I get it. The whole…kissing thing was an accident. It's fine. I'm not interested in getting in your way. You and Ailla can, you know, pursue, or not pursue each other. Whatever. It's all fine."

He tilted his head curiously. "What is your fixation on Ailla and I having some sort of relationship?"

"I don't have a fixation." I said, a bit defensively. "It's just…Donna said you two were spending a lot of time together."

"I didn't realize you were so interested in how I spent my time." He raised his eyebrow. "Besides, were you not the one who asked me to befriend Ailla?"

Blurting out 'I'm not! I don't care at all!' just seemed like it would send the wrong message. Namely, that I was a big fat liar. Was he honestly trying to blame this on me though? That he was only hanging out with her because I _said_ he should? What total bullshit. Since when did he listen to the things I say? Since never. That's when.

"Well, okay. Yeah. But don't act like it was a big chore. She's also incredibly strong, beautiful, and brilliant. And totally worth befriending to boot. I guess it just kind of made sense to me that you two were together." Add that to the fact that I was pretty sure Ailla herself was interested in rekindling that flame.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But she's certainly not the only beautiful and brilliant person on the ship 'worth' befriending." It was criminal the way he looked at people, _criminal_. And rude. Blood rushed up to my face so fast I thought I might actually pass out. Instead, I looked away at a really interesting spot on the wall. He could be a real annoying little shit when he wanted to be.

"I'm sure Jack would be flattered," I said, making a face. "So then what's the deal then? You aren't into dating anymore?" This was probably showing too much interest, but I was already a tomato, it really couldn't get any worse at this point.

"No, I'm simply not interested in her." He said it so matter-of-fact that I may have rolled my eyes. "I was a different person when we were…involved before. It became more clear from the way she discussed Darkheart and what happened when she died…"

"Wait, you're not interested in her because she _lied_ to you?" I snorted. "That's sort of calling the kettle black, isn't it? And metal. And a kettle. And any other comparisons that mean you're _exactly_ the same."

"I didn't-" he looked at me sharply. "When did you hear about Darkheart?"

Damn. Really should learn when to keep my mouth shut. Or maybe people should just stop telling me things. "Oh, you know. Girl talk." My smile wasn't very convincing, but evidently he didn't _really_ care that much.

"Regardless, no. That is not something I held against her. Certainly not with my history of which you were so kind to remind me." The amount of self-loathing in his voice almost made me feel badly for him, but that was probably just a trick of his. "But when she spoke of our 'relationship' if you could call it that, I began to remember bits and pieces. It was a much…darker attraction. I was less of a monster than I came to be, but there was still much of me that was…broken. It is hard to describe, as I'm still not entirely sure what it was." He frowned, apparently another gap in his mind. "So when she died, I lost what little control I had. I went completely and absolutely mad."

"Well…" here it was, relationship guru extraordinaire! My time to shine. Just because I wasn't exactly happy about doing it, didn't mean I couldn't do it _well_. "That kind of thing does happen when people you care about get hurt." In fact, I knew _exactly_ what that felt like, firsthand experience. Granted, I hadn't ended up blowing up a planet, but I was new to the game. I'm sure a couple more traumatizing events would have me at least up to destroying a moon here shortly. No, I'm kidding. Don't let that bite me in the ass later.

"It doesn't," he scowled. "Or it _shouldn't_. Not when you truly-" he shook his head in a frustrated gesture, and for the first time, avoided looking at me. "I did care for her, but I was more angered that she'd been _taken_ from me. I saw her as more possession than equal. I mourned hardly at all. I was consumed by my rage. I weaponized the Darkheart, destroyed a planet with it, and I felt _justified_ doing so." The way he spoke so coldly about it was a tad frightening, but it was also nice to have a reminder that he probably was a bit of a psychopath and it wasn't just a fun nickname I'd made up for him.

"But…you were trying to save her, right?"

There was a hollow look in his eyes when he looked at me again. "Sure, that was the idea. But once I had that power under my control? To change entire species? To change time itself? I have my doubts I would have been the sort of man who wouldn't let that kind of control…go to my head." He said with a wry smile.

"Well," I shrugged. "You are kind of an idiot."

He chuckled. "I'm an enormous idiot."

"At least you know that now." I offered. "Look, I'm not trying to say what you did was in any way right, or okay." I wanted that to be very clear. Blowing up plants was decidedly on the naughty list. Santa would _not_ approve. "But maybe you've just got a flare for drama? Lots of people I know do. They're not generally as…lethal. But you _are_ different now. You're probably like…eighty percent less likely to blow anything up again." It felt weird trying to reassure him about this, but it seemed like he needed it badly. Even if he was dead inside.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." But he seemed unmoved. Well, of course he was. He was a _robot_.

"So…the whole planet debacle isn't really the issue between you two?"

"No. I've learned there is a difference between solely wanting to be revered and _actually_ caring."

"Well, there you go. Knowing is half the battle, right? Did you have an epiphany when you remembered your old pet turtle, Donatello?" I was trying to make things comfortably un-serious again, but he didn't seem to be in the mood.

"No. It was when the Unwritten came into the medical bay," oh, so we were going to bring that up again. Super. Escaping this special customized brand of humiliation he brought me was apparently never going to happen. "You didn't understand the language I was speaking."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "You guys said it was commands, cause you're el numero uno in imaginary time lord prison camp. Or you were supposed to be." I had been paying attention. Sort of.

"That wasn't the entirety of it. I didn't realize I could command them at all, initially. But when they hurt you I…I begged them to stop. To take me instead." I blinked. That was not at _all_ what I was expecting. Actually, part of me thought he was lying, because that somehow seemed more fitting.

"Wow…that…that was _really _unnecessary. _And_ a terrible idea." It was a _stupid_ idea. They hadn't really struck me as the agreeable sort who might go for that kind of thing. They struck me as the type that would just make the torturing _more_ awful because he had asked a favor. And if they _had _agreed? And I'd have to watch him get tortured to death just so they'd leave me alone? Well, he had better hope they would have killed him, because I sure as hell would have finished the job. Stupid. Just really really stupid.

Was it a little flattering? Maybe.

But more confusing. Mostly confusing. Lots and lots of confusion over here.

"Perhaps," the corner of his mouth curled upward. "But I was desperate."

"Oh," I cleared my throat. Yeah. I was still just confused. But I tried to act casual. "Well… don't go blowing up any planets. Cause I _will_ come back and haunt your ass." I pointed a warning finger in his direction.

"That's the _point_, Fitzgerald." He said, slightly exasperated.

"That I would come back and haunt you?" He was really bad at making points. Or I was an idiot. Actually, they were both true.

"No. The point is that I _wouldn't_ destroy a planet, or harness a weapon, simply to sooth my own ego." He started to pace the room, and _ramble._ I had never before heard him ramble. "You're not some…some _fixation _for a vain man to avenge. I'd rather you _live_. You're not apt to admire me simply because I could do such a thing. And yet I find myself _wanting_ your admiration. Even with your absurdly silly ideals and frankly an appalling penchant for trouble. But even more ridiculous is that I want you to know these things, which are clearly points of fault in my own character. I never understood the need for such trivial sentimentalities, never _needed_ to before now." His tone was snide, and he had been speaking impossibly fast. But…I was pretty sure he had been saying something…_nice_. He had used a lot of big words, and his face sort of looked like he had been sucking on a lemon, so it was hard to be totally sure.

"Wait. You've…you've lost me here." He stopped his pacing to shook me an annoyed look. "I thought we were talking about your hang-up with getting back together with Ailla." I frowned. We _needed_ to be talking about that, because whatever _this_ was turning into, I _really_ wasn't prepared for. At all.

"You are _impossibly_ thick sometimes." He said with an frustrated huff. "I don't _want_ her."

"Okay," my voice had gotten a little sharp. Contrary to popular belief, I didn't really need him reminding me I was an idiot. I was totally aware. "Point made, I just-"

"I want _you_." He snapped. The irritation in his voice should have been reassuring, I was good at yelling matches. Comfortable with them, even. But the words? Well. The words were all _wrong_. I stood there, staring at him and the aggravation slowly faded from his face. I think he'd only just realized what he'd _actually_ said. For a second, I thought I could see _something_ through that mask of his, it looked a bit like fear. Which was great, because that meant we were on the same page, because what the _hell_ was he talking about? Me? _Me?_ Had he seen me recently? That was impossible. And ridiculous. And _impossible_. He couldn't want _me_. I was generic, boring, and, kind of obnoxious. Almost all the time. And that was me being _nice_ about it. Another thing I wasn't any good at. The list of things wrong with me was pretty much endless.

Then, to put the icing on the cake, when you compared me to Ailla, the shining example of _everything_-kind. Well. It was a _joke_ really. A hilarious and painful joke. That was more funny 'sad', than funny 'ha-ha'. Well, more sad for me. Funny for everyone else.

But he wasn't laughing. He was just _standing_ there. Waiting for me to respond? I don't know. Is there a word for when you're stupefied because someone's completely blindsided you, and at the same time, too terrified to speak, because you have no idea what you should say? Terrif-stupefied? Stup-errified? I don't know, I'd come up with something. Whatever it was, I was definitely feeling it.

He shook his head and finally broke eye contact, giving me a chance to breathe again. It looked like he took my silence as a dismissal and turned for the door.

"I'm sorry I came, it was…it was ridiculous for me to think-" He shook his head again. "I'm sorry." He said in a clipped tone as he reached for the button to open the door again, but I found myself reflexively reaching out to stop him.

"Don't-" my voice faltered, feeling both idiotic and nervous. It was a big day for feelings. "Don't go." That had literally taken all the courage I'd ever had to say, times eleven. His eyes narrowed on my grip and that was almost enough to make me let go. Really should have planned something for this moment. Like…words. Words would be _really_ great right now. Like the ones that I had originally planned on telling him? Professor…I…like…you? No? Nothing? You're just going to sit there like a mute. I opened my mouth, hoping maybe something would come out, but no such luck. My brain chose that moment to fail me spectacularly. But to be fair, it _had_ been failing me for most of my life now. No reason why it should suddenly change just because I desperately wanted it to.

Still. Would have been nice. Especially since it looked like he was pulling away again. My heart raced as I stepped closer to him, my throat uncomfortably dry. I really didn't have a plan, but closing the distance between us seemed to have gotten his attention again. Christ, I really had no idea what the hell I was doing.

I wanted him to stay. I knew that. Damned if I could say it out loud though.

Instead, I reached up with my other hand to cup his cheek and traced my thumb just below his lip. He didn't immediately jerk away, which gave me a terrifying kind of thrill. His eyes flicked down to my mouth once, looking uncertain. That was hardly what I'd consider _permission_, but carpe diem and all that crap, right?

I had to stand on my toes and lean against him to match his height, and while that should have been the point of no return, I still hesitated. He was close enough now that I could feel his hot breath against my face and my stomach was twisting itself into knots. No idea what the hell I was waiting for, the horde of supercharged butterflies in my gut made it pretty clear how badly I wanted to do this. And really, it'd been obvious for some time now, even if I'd determinedly refused to acknowledge it. I was a trooper like that. Or just obnoxiously stubborn.

My hand slid from his face and back through that thick hair of his, pulling him forward so I could brush my lips against the corner of his mouth, still tentative, afraid. And _stupid_ excited. A real hot mess of insanity going on over here. Any moment now, he'd throw in the towel. He'd say, 'Haha, just kidding. Didn't think you'd actually _go_ for it'. You know, the sort of shit thing I had come to expect from my daily life.

When I finally bit the bullet and pressed my mouth against his, he hissed in a sharp breath. I froze, unsure if that was a bad sign; but then his arms came up around my back, cool fingers grazing my bare skin, leaving goose bumps in his wake. He pulled me tighter against him, returning the kiss with a startling enthusiasm that had my cloud of doubts bursting into flames, or whatever the hell it was that clouds did to vanish.

It was replaced with a hot flood of need deep in my stomach that radiated through me in turbocharged waves. Definitely a _good_ sign. I deepened the kiss, parting my lips to trace my tongue against the inside edge of his own. His mouth opened and pressed hard against mine, consuming in its intensity, reminding me intimately how good he had been at this before. What started out innocently enough, was now rapidly growing out of hand. Not that my hormones had a problem with that. No, wherever this was headed, I had their _full_ support. My fist tightened in his hair and I felt more than heard his groan. There may have been a small smile of satisfaction on my face as he pulled slowly away.

"That was-" his voice was rough as he spoke, watching me with half-lidded eyes. His hands were inching higher and higher up my shirt, as though every nerve in my body didn't take notice. "I've been looking forward to that for some time."

"Thought you said this was inappropriate behavior?" I raised an eyebrow. A silent laugh rumbled deep in his chest and I felt it through the thin fabric that still separated us. The goofy grin he wore so infrequently started to make an appearance. It wasn't my fault it was charming as hell, even if it _was_ crooked.

"I only said that so you'd stop avoiding me." He bent to place a kiss against my jaw. "So I could do it _again_."

"_That's_ lying." I chided, putting a hand on his chest to stop him, but who was I kidding, I had no intention of letting him stop until this was finished.

* * *

**A/N: Hey there! That was a freakishly long chapter. Lordy. *ahem* anyway. I thought now might be the opportune time to mention that this is where the alleged 'smut' scene is going to come into play. I'm going to post it as a one shot separate from the story, so the people who want to avoid it can, and so I don't have to bump the rating here, since it's literally one chapter of M material. If that's a big deal for anyone, maybe I'll swap it, but for now I think it'll be fine. **

**Anyway, will be posting chapter '18.5' pretty shortly here as I mostly wrote them together, which makes this an _ungodly_ freaking monster of a chapter. Need to put a lid on that. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**And a huge HUGE HUUUUUGE thank you to Tyantha and silverserpent08 for being FANTASTIC beta readers for me. I REALLY NEEDED YOUR HELP AND YOU WERE _AWESOME_. THANK. YOU. **


	19. Chapter 18-5

A/N: Hello there, you have reached this page because I figured you're probably following the story (well, at least some of you are) and you use the convenience of alerts to let you know when something has been updated! As chapter 18.5 is going to be posted as a one shot on its own, you would technically have no way of knowing that, except for the fact that I told you at the end of last chapter, but whatever. I'm trying to make things convenient so you will love me. PLEASE LOVE ME.

Ahem. Sorry. Anyway. This is your alert! Chapter 18.5 is up! And it's with my other stories and it's called 'Keeping the Stars Apart:18.5' Because I am real damn creative with names. Go me.

So scurry on over there! And please tell me what you think!

Ah, now, for the rest of you who weren't interested in the smut. Um. Sorry for this semi misleading alert. This may feel like a betrayal, and I apologize for that, so here's an all age appropriate sample of 18.5

Bow chicka bow chicka wow wow.

Chicka wow chicka wow wooooow.

Chicka wow chicka wow chicka wow wow.

There. You've missed nothing at all.

Still feel left out? Okay, here's a story because I am a generous and benevolent being.

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Crantonia (their chief export was cranberries, hence the name (I'm lying, I just made that shit up.)) there was a Princess who loved all creatures great and small (but let's face it, porcupines were her favorite. No contest). She had learned her kindness from her parents, who were a just and much revered King and Queen of the lands. From the lowly farmers of the Southland Plains, to the Ice Giants in the Spire Mountains who mined the finest diamonds the world had ever seen, the people spoke no ill of their wise rulers and they were happy.

The King and Queen often visited far and wide, speaking with the leaders of each village, striving to do better for their kingdom each and every day. (They were overachievers like that, but not in that condescending "we're so much better than everyone" kind of way. Which is good, because, man. Can not _stand_ those people.) One day, they traveled to the deep dark wood of Requiem to speak with the centaurs who ruled there. It was on the final day of their talks that a witch came upon the Princess, now a lady of sixteen, who had wandered from the royal encampment to explore the wood.

You might think that the witch stole her away, or cursed her, or ate her for dinner. But you'd be wrong, because this isn't that kind of story and shame on _you_ for judging a witch like that. Honestly.

Anyway, the witch followed her for a while (because she had very little going on. Witches are lonely people), and she was curious to see why such a clearly wealthy girl was wandering aimlessly in the woods. When the princess came upon a squirrel that had trapped itself in the brambles of a bush, she stopped to free the poor animal, despite the scratches and injuries she herself received from both the bush and the frightened creature. The witch saw this kindness, and decided to reward the young woman.

See? See? A _nice _witch. Are you all forgetting Glinda? Shame on you, your family, and your cow.

Anyway.

The witch approached the Princess, who was just as kind to her as she would have been with any of the most respected people in the kingdom, and offered her a gift of her choosing. The Princess thought on this for a while. She was not a silly girl who would wish for a husband (unless it was Tom Hiddleston. But they didn't have Tom Hiddleston's there, and if the Princess knew about Tom Hiddleston you can bet your ass that's where her wish would have gone), and she knew she had more than enough wealth to ever need to wish for more. Her thoughts, instead, lingered on the squirrel she had rescued and how frightened it had been.

"I would speak with the animals." The Princess said resolutely. "So that I could help them when needed."

The witch nodded her head gravely and waved her arms over the girl, casting her spell. "And so it shall be." She took a deep breath and raised her shawl over her head. "Peace." She said as she threw a sign.

The Princess was not one to accuse people of lying, but she did find it hard to believe that a strange woman in the wood would grant her such abilities, so she kept the encounter to herself. But as the caravan prepared to leave the woods of Requiem, she accidently stumbled into her horse.

"Oh, sorry." She mumbled absently, so used to speaking with her animals that it had become second nature.

"No worries love, take morn'nat ta knock me down." The horse responded.

"Well damn." Said the Princess.

And so it came to pass, that the witch had not been eating the special kind of forest berries that made one a bit silly and prone to exaggeration, she truly had given the Princess the gift of speech. People came from all around to see the feat, and soon people came with their horses, their ox, their trusty mutts, to see what ailed them and how they could be helped. The Princess enjoyed this work so much, that she began to help sick animals full time. The King and Queen gave their blessing and the Princess spent her days traveling, curing those she could and spreading her message of understanding.

Things were well in the kingdom, but there were talks of a darkness rising out of the west. The neighboring kingdoms far far away had fallen under some horrible monstrosity. The tales were obscure at first, the kind that were shared over a pint and a laugh. But as the darkness grew closer, they were no longer stories to be mocked. They were whispered fears, panic. It was no army that marched on them, it was the great spider lord, Gooroth, and her hoard of children. They were the ones who were spreading their destruction, and there was nothing they could do to stop them.

All the armies of the surrounding kingdoms retreated to Crantonia, their last beacon of hope. The King and Queen ordered great walls built around their borders to keep those who had survived safe. And so the Hoard of Gooroth was slowed, but each day more men died defending the wall, and each day the barrier cracked and broke and threatened to fall completely.

The Princess heard of this trouble and went to confront Gooroth and her children, knowing there must be a peaceful resolution to this madness. Gooroth listened to the Princess' wise words and ordered her children to cease their attacks. She would speak to the King and Queen in an honorable way and see if they could not come to an agreement. The Princess pleaded her case, and finally the King and Queen agreed to meet with the spider lord. Their talks were long and arduous, with the Princess serving to translate the words. On the fourth day of talks, the ground began to shake beneath them.

"A mighty earthquake!" The King shouted, reaching for his wife and daughter to protect them from all that heavy expensive shit they had hanging on the walls.

"Naw." Said Goorgoth. "Thems my kids. I just did this 'talk' thing to buy some time. We're burrowers by nature."

The Princess couldn't bring herself to translate for her parents, but it didn't matter. The stone floors burst open, bringing wave after wave of tiny spider children that swarmed the royal family and all who resided in the castle, devouring them to the very last. With no wall to stop them, and no leadership to command the armies, all the people of Crantonia were devoured and the Spider lords ruled till the end of days. Feasting on the blood of all who remained.

THIS IS A SPIDER HATE STORY.

SPIDERS ARE TERRIBLE.

MORAL OF THE STORY.

SPIDERS = BAD

THE. END.

So, uh. Yeah. That's it.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: After much delay it's...short. Sorry. I'll get back to work. Yeh heathens. ;)**

* * *

My eyes reluctantly unglued themselves, mostly because I still wasn't really dedicated to the idea of _actually_ waking up. There was a sheet tangled around my limbs and I was sort of using the Professor as a mattress. About as comfortable as you'd think, but also not entirely unpleasant. As I groggily surveyed my surroundings, I realized we'd ended up on the couch that had conveniently reappeared at some point during the course of the evening. Providing further proof of my theory that the TARDIS was some kind of sick pervert with a hidden agenda.

Which made her, or _it_, very similar to me. So it was hard to judge too harshly. Except for the fact that she was a _spaceship_.

I stretched out as much as I could, parts of me groaning in protest that hadn't groaned in…well, a good long while. I may have been a bit overly optimistic about the odds of me keeping up with the stamina of a fully functional time lord, but that was alright. I wasn't complaining. I was absolutely prepared to try again. Several more times if necessary.

My stomach erupted in some kind of embarrassing symphony of a groan.

Okay. Trying again _after_ some refueling. Noted.

I gingerly began to push myself up, but an arm tightened against me. Looking up, it appeared that the Professor was still asleep. Despite the fact that I was pretty much pinning him down, I was still a little surprised that he hadn't managed to disappear like last time. But that summed up most of my expectations pretty well, in the fact that they always seemed to be wrong. Still, it was even more of a shock to find him completely asleep. Not sure I'd ever seen him do that. Actually, not sure if I'd seen _any_ of the time lords sleep. You know, without the aid of serious mortal wounds.

The perpetual frown that always marked his brow was gone, his face relaxed and smooth. There was still no mistaking him for ordinary, or even human, as much as I liked to pretend. But he was substantially less 'alien' looking than I first thought. He was like some kind of sculpture carved out of marble, all angles and soft lines and those god damn cheekbones. He was beautiful. In a terrifying kind of way. At least terrifying to _me_. And I should probably stop staring, because that was _creepy_.

With my kind of luck, shortly here he was going to wake up and find out how creepy I was being. So no more staring. Plus, I was still hungry.

As delicately as I could, I raised myself to my elbows and tried to remove myself from the couch. He made a grumbling noise above my head and this time his arm moved quite deliberately across my back, pressing me down against his chest again. So this was going to be slightly more difficult than I thought.

"Oh good," it _was_ pretty tempting to just stay here forever. "I was starting to think maybe I'd killed you."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm only half dead." He opened his pale eyes and looked at me with some amusement. "I'm afraid I rather underestimated how…_vigorous_ humans were."

"I'll take that as a compliment, and you're _welcome_." I stuck my tongue out at him petulantly and he chuckled deep in his chest. The feeling of it nearly caused me to forget my appetite. Well, the one for _food_ anyway. The one I had for this particular time lord didn't seem to be going away any time soon. He was comfortably warm, and still very much undressed beneath me. If I just shifted a little-

No. _Don't_ do that. Focus.

Without any kind of sustenance I'd probably be good for all of five minutes and that'd be no fun at all. Besides, how long could it take for me to scarf down some toast? If anyone could set a record for that kind of thing, I was betting it was _me_. He was watching me intently, possibly with the same inappropriate thoughts as myself. That just gave me further resolve to leave, because if he got started, I'm not sure I'd be all that dedicated to stopping him.

"I'm getting some food." I said with a nod, convincing myself as well as him. I peeled myself out from under his arm and he graciously allowed it. Part of me suspected that it was just to see me out from under the sheet again, I did my best to pretend I didn't care. But damn, it was cold out here.

"Right," he said as he sat up and stretched his pale arms above his head. The sheet slid down across his torso and just barely caught on his hips. It was mildly distracting as I was trying to find my clothes from wherever he'd thrown them. "Stars, it is a bit late. Promised the Doctor I'd be down to help…well, ages ago." He scratched his head, looking as close to guilty as he was probably capable of.

"You were supposed to meet the Doctor?" I asked with a frown, shimmying back into my clothes as gracelessly as possible.

"The scanner picked up some unusual signal, he was worried it might be a glitch, or perhaps throw off the TARDIS entirely. I only intended to speak with you but…" the corner of his mouth curled upward. "It seems _some_ of us got a bit carried away."

I glared at him and punched him in the shoulder as he rose from the couch and walked past, I also may have used it as an excuse to eyeball him again, but he didn't look remotely bothered by the idea.

"Hey, if either of us was supposed to have self-control, it should have _definitely_ been the wizened old alien." I accused him.

"Perhaps you're not remembering much of my personal history. But from what little _I_ recall, I can assure you, relying on me to be the responsible one is largely a mistake."

"I bet," I snorted. He'd found his clothing easily and was completely dressed by the time I was still pulling my sweater back over my head. Though his shirt still hung open, because I had ruined it. That made me grin, until he caught me staring. Oops.

"So," I cleared my throat and threw on my jacket to try and give myself more of a 'I did not just have an obnoxious amount of sex' look. "See you around?" Wow. That came out awkward. I wasn't especially good with the 'morning after' and I had run out of bantery things to say. Well, I wasn't really good at mornings either. Or knowing how to act in this situation. Let's just say there were very few things I was good at, generally. I turned for the door but he grabbed my arm before I could escape.

"Fitzgerald," the way he said my name now made something jump inside of me. "What's the matter?"

"What?" That caught me a little off guard. "Nothing."

"You've got that look on your face that says otherwise." He said with narrowed eyes.

"What face?" I scoffed at him. I didn't have _faces_; I was the master of discretion. What did he know?

"That face that says you're thinking about how best to avoid me again."

"I don't have-" okay, I probably _did_ have a face for that. And he was probably pretty good at recognizing it at this point. "Okay, fine. But I _wasn't_ thinking that. I was thinking about orange juice and toast. I'm just…I'm awkward." Was it awkward admitting I was awkward? Well, of _course_ it was, that was my thing.

"Is there a reason for that?" He frowned.

"No. I mean, it's just kinda how I am. You know that, obviously." He stared blankly, as though maybe he _didn't_ know that at all. Idiot. "Well, and it's just, I don't really know how to act around you with this kind of…you're not really _typical_ boyfriend material, you know?"

"Boyfriend material?" He raised an eyebrow. Damn, he had caught that hadn't he. My face flushed red hot as I got busy avoiding his gaze.

"Not that you _are_ my boy-" No, bad idea to say it again. "I'm just trying to say that if you _were_ you're not completely…um." Total humiliation detected in T minus ten seconds… "I mean a onetime hookup doesn't make us _together_ or anything-" Oh god, take a breath, this is only getting worse. "No. Actually, this is _exactly_ the kind of awkwardness that I'm talking about. And is this freaking you out? Because I have no idea, I feel like it _should_ be freaking you out, but you're always so damn serious and frowny it's hard to tell."

"I don't recall being either of those things last night."

Oh, I could punch him right in that beautiful face. "Yeah. Fine. Not _always_. But you have to know what I'm talking about. It's hard to know where I stand because you're always so closed up. I don't want you to think I'm all invested in this just because we got together the one time. I mean, this can just be fun and that's alright. I don't even know if time lords _do _relationships, or if that's what they'd call-"

He interrupted me by grabbing hold of my chin and pulling me forward. He crushed his mouth against mine and erased whatever else I had planned on saying pretty effectively. His lips left me a little breathless as he finally pulled back and stared down at me with those icy eyes of his.

"Okay…I might be over thinking things a _little_." I admitted. Serious or not, it was fun, did I really care what it meant long term?

"I want you Fitzgerald. In every possible meaning of the word for as long as you'll have me." His voice caused my stomach to flutter wildly. "Does that clarify things for you?"

"A little." I swallowed. He smirked and bent to kiss me again. Softer this time, but no less intimate. His fingers released my chin and trailed down my throat, the sensation making it difficult to recall what other plans I may have had for the day.

"Good." He said finally. "Now go get something to eat before I decide you need more convincing." There was just enough of a glint in his eye that made me certain he was serious. Which sort of made me want to challenge him, but that seemed like a bad idea.

"Aye aye," I gave him a mock salute as I took a step backward. "Probably want to change that shirt though." I said with a grin, something in the way he watched me go made me think I was going to pay for that comment later.

The kitchen was, thankfully, empty. While I secretly suspected everyone would instantly know what had happened because they'd just _know_. Realistically, they'd know because I'd do something stupid like blurt it out. The fact that I was dancing to Billy Idol while making eggs was probably slightly damning, so I was glad in any case that there was no one around. Unfortunately, about halfway through my omelet, the person I least wanted to see showed up.

"H-hey," I said, sputtering a mouthful of OJ back into the glass as Ailla walked through the door. She watched me curiously as my hand swatted at the small stereo to silence it. "Sorry about the noise."

"That's okay," she said, forcing a small smile on her face. It was probably still hard for her to be in even a remotely good place right now, but she didn't look as miserable as she had the last time I'd seen her. "It's a nice change. Things have been pretty dreary recently."

I swallowed, trying to keep up my awkward smile. There wasn't anything to say to that. Should I be happy that she could appreciate my good mood without wanting to throttle me? Or feel bad that I was probably one of the only people on this ship still capable of feeling joy right now? I just nodded.

"Have you seen the Professor?"

The second sip of juice didn't come spewing out, but it definitely went down the wrong pipe.

"Uh, no." I choked, trying to clear my throat. "No I haven't. Not really. No. Why?" My voice was raspy as I coughed again. Hadn't really been prepared for that. Didn't handle it very well either. Probably shouldn't be trying to drink juice when talking to people. That was just asking for trouble. Or just stop talking to people all together, drink all the juice I wanted. Yes. That seemed like a much better plan.

"You okay?" She asked after I started to turn slightly purple. She seemed more worried about my ability to breathe than why I was choking in the first place. Really, I didn't need to agonize about it. The reality of what had _actually_ happened was so insane, there was no reason for it to occur to her at all. So I had that going for me, sort of. Honesty was probably the best policy. I didn't know if I was up for hiding that sort of thing long term, _but_, I was guessing right now she didn't really want to know that the last place I'd seen him was half-naked in my bedroom.

"Fine." I croaked, nodding as I stifled another cough.

"Alright, I was just working on something, going to need his help with it." She shrugged.

"Oh yeah?" Hope it wasn't something like a romantic dinner, because that probably wasn't going to go over too well. Unless he was a two-timing piece of crap. Oh, hello paranoia, I've missed you terribly.

"Yeah, I…" she was suddenly fighting back a grin. That _had_ to be a good sign. "I think I may have figured out how to save Gallifrey."

"Wow." That was…well, that was _incredible_. And not that surprising since it was _Ailla_. "That's amazing!" My enthusiasm may have been slightly bolstered by the fact that it also changed the subject from the Professor's whereabouts.

"It is a bit of a stretch," she admitted. "But I think I've figured a way to use the Matrix computers so they can release the Unwritten."

"Oh," my smile slipped a little. "That's…nice." She still seemed genuinely excited. Which was confusing because it sounded like a _terrible_ idea. And one that wouldn't work if the TARDIS was to be believed.

"I know, I know. But I think I've got a workaround. And then we can use the same computers to break through the time lock surrounding Gallifrey. It'll take some tweaking and…well," she laughed, picking at her fingernail. "It's all a bit of a long shot."

"Well," I scoffed, trying to keep my face impassive. "Everything we do around here is usually a miracle. That's probably why we've gotten so good at it. I'm sure the-" who? The Doctor? Did he really seem like he'd be interested in this little scheme? The one that sounded like she was going to enslave an army of very hard to kill psychopaths and unleash them to start up a war. _Again_. Yeah. I guess he would be interested in that. But probably more in a 'shutting it the hell down' capacity. I was feeling similarly. "I'm sure you'll get it all figured out." Really, I had no idea if what she was proposing was even remotely feasible, god I _hoped_ not. But someone smarter than me could shatter that little illusion for her. Someone like the Doctor, who I was immediately going to find, and _warn_ about this. Because it had all kinds of 'holy crap, Ailla may have lost her marbles' written all over it. It's usually not good when the resident crazy starts to question your sanity.

"I hope so," she walked with me as I started for the door. "I was also wondering, do you think I could ask you a favor? There's this important bit that I think you'd just be perfect for." She smiled.

"Oh sure," my voice squeaked. "Anything to help." Like _hell_ I was going to help her go totally batshit. Though it was surprising she was asking me at all, apparently she didn't remember how generally useless I tended to be when I helped on any kind of project. Hey, maybe I _should_ help. That'd be a surefire way to screw it up.

"I knew I could count on you." She leaned forward and hugged me, and then her hand came up to press against my forehead, which was just as awkward as it sounded.

"Um. Ailla? What are-" my eyes grew heavy and suddenly holding the glass of juice was too tiring an exercise. I felt it slip from my hand, shattering on the ground. The last thing I remembered was Ailla holding me with both arms, slowing my descent to the floor. And then everything went black. I spent _way_ too much time unconscious.

Also. This was probably a bad sign. A _really_ bad sign.


	21. Chapter 20

_**A/N**: Profuse apologies! I am bad. Bad is what I am. Hope to keep to a better schedule soon! Hope you're all having a lovely spring!_

* * *

When I managed to regain my senses, I wasn't feeling well rested like the last time a time lord had ninja'd me to sleep. It was actually kind of leaning the opposite direction. That was unfortunate. So was the chair I was strapped to. Well, that was more _alarming_ than unfortunate. Or, both. And probably bad. All kinds of bad, possibly, _very _bad.

Maybe I was just rushing to conclusions. Maybe I suffered a seizure or something and needed to be restrained. That was a possibility.

I mean, that was still in the 'not good' category. But it was loads better than where my thoughts were leading me. Some kind of screwed up torture skinning murder- I don't know. But there was a lot of gore involved. Someone, _mother_, should have probably stopped me from watching those kinds of shows when I was a kid because they really weren't helping me stay calm right now. Looking at my surroundings didn't help either since I knew exactly where I was. That stupid _stupid_ room from hell. The holodeck. Bane of my existence. Why had they even built one here? Bad shit _always_ went down on the holodeck, why didn't the TARDIS know that? Don't tell me she didn't have time to catch up on her television watching while the Doctor was busy getting himself into trouble. It was a bit larger than the last time I had seen it. Still dark gray walls, but they spread out from where I was sitting, resulting in a long hallway filled with giant black arcade games? Probably not, but they were tall, black, and seemed to involve buttons. None of them looked like Pac-man though. Just as well, since I was terrible at it.

Movement caught my attention when I recognized the only other person in the room, walking between two of the black columns. "Ailla?" Of course it was her. Couldn't be someone I _wanted_ to see. At this point, I'd rather see slender man waiting at the end of the hall-No. Wait. This was the room that fed off thoughts right? Never mind about slender man. I was kidding. Haha. Good one. Jesus, let's not make things any _worse_. Please, just this once.

"Oh good," Ailla said in a tone that wasn't remotely cheerful. "You're awake." I waited for her to offer any kind of explanation as to why I was…you know, _tied to a fucking chair_. But she wasn't interested in that, apparently. "There we go," she said as she finished fiddling with a few dials on the mysterious arcade boxes. "There was some override that prevented the particles from solidifying while you were unconscious."

"That's great, glad you settled that. Why the hell am I strapped to a chair?"

"Fitz," she finally stopped what she was doing long enough to focus her attention on me. "I want you to know how very sorry I am about all this. It's not personal in the least. I like you, I really do. But," always a 'but' isn't there? She was using her best placating tone so I was already irritated with her. "This is the fate of an entire race. The Time Lords. I can't just let them die, not if there's a way to prevent it. Your ability to manipulate the interface has given me a way to do that."

Uh huh. Right. Super. Whatever captain crazy was serving, I wasn't interested. I was now on the brink of a killer headache and there was an itch directly on the center of my nose that no amount of nose twitching had managed to slay. Whatever was going on, it was over. Now.

"Go ahead and untie me and we can talk about it, alright?" I was partly talking through clenched teeth to keep myself from screaming it at her. Plus, if I threatened her, it would probably just bounce off her perfectly toned muscles like a shower of warm gummy bears.

"I can't do that." She smiled sadly, which wasn't remotely reassuring. Okay. Calm down. Count to ten, screaming isn't going to help. One…two…

"Are you fucking _crazy?_" I said, lurching half out of my chair, only to realize it didn't really matter since it was heavy as hell and I was still definitely attached to it. "Just untie me god dammit!" So counting to ten had been a tad optimistic. Should have tried for three. Then again, my current situation probably didn't call for my limited manners, so maybe it didn't matter if I had a total meltdown.

"You have to understand, this isn't just for me, or my people. This is for the entirety of the universe. They keep people, civilizations, whole _worlds_ safe. This is important."

"I'm sorry. Is your big plan just to bring back every single inhabitant of the god damn planet and put them on the ship? Is that really it?" That seemed stupid, even for me, and I had a high margin for stupidity in my own plans, so that was saying something. "Isn't there also a big hang up with a whole 'time lock' around Gallifrey?" In actuality, I had no idea how big of a deal that was, I had sort of tuned out when the Doctor was explaining it. But the gist was that he couldn't go back. Right?

"You're right. That was a problem. But then you brought me _this_," Ailla walked a few steps closer to where the only other fixture in the room was. A small clear pedestal, lit from below, the top was a glass case. She opened it and pulled out a familiar looking pocket watch.

"What the _hell_-" I tried reaching for my jacket, only to remember I was strapped down. She couldn't have the gall to rifle through my pockets to steal my stuff, could she? But then I was sharply reminded that she had knocked me out and tied me up. Maybe she had plenty of gall.

"Exactly what was needed to maintain the connection. A piece that had broken through the barriers already." Ailla smiled as she looked at the watch a moment longer before returning it to the case. "Don't you see? This was all meant to happen. Rassilon escaping from the time war in his madness, finding and using you. Bringing the Professor to find the Unwritten."

"How can that _possibly_ mean anything? You're just naming off a bunch of random things that happened." I hoped to god Rassilon and the nightmare he had brought wasn't _meant_ to happen. Because then that meant the universe was a real fucking asshole.

"There's no such thing as coincidence." Ailla said seriously. What utter bullshit. A time lord, who could, theoretically, go any direction in time and space that they wanted, to change anything, anywhere; somehow believed in _fate_.

"Fine. Go for it. Bring a couple billion people here. We'll have a party. It'll be great." I focused my efforts on twisting out of my bindings instead of arguing with her since she had absolutely _no_ damn sense.

"I'm not going to bring them here. I just need to open the doors between Gallifrey and the Matrix." She pressed her hand against the nearby wall where if I squinted, I thought I could see a hazy outline of some kind of portal. But I could also be imagining it. "These computers, they're replicas of the Matrix. With you powering them, making them real, I can bring back the Unwritten."

"Er…" my struggles paused, only briefly. "Isn't that exactly what you _didn't_ want to do? Save the Unwritten?" My mind was the crappy one, so why couldn't _she_ remember trying to bite the Doctor's head off for suggesting the same thing.

"I'm not going to save them," she spat, violence overtaking her serene face for a brief moment. "I'm going to _use_ them." Her eyes trailed to the wall opposite and there was another hole faintly outlined. A cold sweat broke out across my skin. She was going to fill the nightmare room with nightmare people. This was just great. Maybe if I asked nicely, she could fill this place with water and I could just die from sheer terror. "Use them to win the war and save my people."

"I don't think they're interested in _helping_ you. They nearly killed us. They might have killed Rhysik." Her nostrils flared, apparently unhappy about that. It was nice to know there were still _some_ people she cared about. Even if I didn't happen to be on that list.

"They won't have a choice. We can control them now."

"Oh, you think the Professor wants to get in on this?" I snorted. "Yeah. Sign him up. This whole thing sounds like a real bang up idea."

"I know he does because he knows what's at stake. Gallifrey is trapped in the war. They're fighting the same battles over and over again. You think he would willingly damn his own kind to that existence? Would _you_ do that to your own people?" The confidence I had been feeling suddenly plummeted. I didn't have an answer for her. And now it seemed impossible to convince her for one simple reason. She might have been right.

"I thought so." She said quietly, walking back to the nearest computer.

"Well, why aren't we all talking about it then? Why isn't the Doctor helping you? Why do you _still_ have me tied up?"

"Because the cost is too great." She said, sighing and staring at the floor blankly.

"Oh, you think starting a war with an army full of rabid dogs isn't going to end with rainbows and sunshine?" My snark was a little problematic, might be a bad idea to be mocking the crazy time lord. But the part of me that worried about keeping myself in check was buried deep underneath the part of me that was freaking the hell out.

"It's _you_, Fitz. You're the only one who can sustain the computers long enough to open both gates. But just barely. When the Unwritten make the transition from the Matrix to Gallifrey, I'm afraid you…well, you won't survive the process." She looked at me, with a completely level gaze. And I snorted. Then dissolved into laughter. I mean, she was _joking_ right? Now the ominous music would start to play louder _dun dun DUUUUUN._ My laughter slowly died as she continued to stare at me, now in a pitying way.

"You're not _serious_."

"I am." She said without any hesitation. No diabolical laughter followed her pronouncement. Which would have been nice if she did, because clichéd evil villains were always making mistakes. Ailla wasn't really giving off that vibe. She was striking me as more of the cool calculated genius that slaughters all sorts of people before anyone even knows what's going on. And I was getting the sinking feeling that I was a red shirt from Star Trek here.

"Jesus Ailla, don't do this. You can't just declare war and toss me up as some kind of collateral damage. Do you even know how crazy-"

"It's not up for negotiation." Her voice was devoid of emotion as she turned back to her computer. Busy with something more important than listening to me beg for my life apparently. The sinking turned more into a drowning feeling now. This was really happening, she had really lost it and she _really_ didn't give a damn. The first thing on my list was to throw a tantrum like a toddler, for all the good it would do me. "I'm sorry," she said, before I could get started. "This isn't easy for me. But I'm not going to change my mind. This is the right decision. Everyone will know your sacrifice though. I promise you that."

"That's great. Make sure my plaque says something pithy like 'wish I didn't have to die because some lunatic decided she knew what was best for the universe and stabbed her friend in the back'. It'll be a nice reminder to the kids about betrayal and cold blooded _murder_." The chair lurched beneath me with my efforts, but still got me effectively nowhere. Actually, my wrists were starting to ache, and that headache was now full blown. That wasn't really the kind of progress I had been looking for though.

"I know you're upset and I wish there were more time to discuss all of this, but with your…limitations. Well, there are many things that still need to be done, and little time to do it."

"Sure. Don't let me hold you back. Just a living human being. I can see how that might be annoying!" I shouted at the back of her head, but she had already started to work again. Busy with, you know, manufacturing my death. This was just fantastic. The leather on my wrists wasn't coming loose anytime soon and I was pretty sure I could scream until my voice went hoarse and no one would hear me here in this stupid room. Because it was evil. It was a bastard. It was going down if I survived all of this.

No. Not if. _When_.

When I survived all of this, I was going to brick this room up behind a big damn wall. And then I was going to light it on fire. And then I was going to- Actually, I'd probably be pretty beat from building a brick wall. And the fire would be hard to work in if I'd already barricaded the room off…Whatever. The point was, me and this room, were through. Just as soon as I got out. Which would be any second now. Once I figured out how to get out of this fucking chair. And warn the Doctor.

Or…

Ailla turned and moved further down the room, to another of the computers. I looked around. There had to be a way to get a warning out, and I knew just the digital idiot to help me with that. "_Hey_," I whispered behind me, hoping my voice wouldn't carry. The hum of the TARDIS itself seemed to mask it pretty well. "_Hey voice thingy that looks like the Doctor._" My voice began to strain and I started to suspect that not only was I going to die, I was going to die whispering to myself and looking just as crazy as Ailla. But the air nearest my head crackled to life and a sigh of relief escaped my throat. "Thank god." I said, my eyes focusing on the back of Ailla to make sure she was still unaware.

The Doctor stood there, his arms clasped together, doing absolutely nothing useful. "How about you get me out of here?" I struggled in the chair to make it obvious what I was talking about. I was ready to bolt as soon as needed, there was no urge in me to stick around and try and stop Ailla. Playing the hero wasn't very tempting, especially since I knew she could drop me like a wet rag just as soon as she wanted. Escape. And look for backup. That was the plan.

"Yes, well. There's a bit of a hang up there." He twisted his hands together, looking sheepish.

"No. I don't want to hear any of your riddle soaked timey bullshit. Undo. The. Straps." My voice was growing louder, but it was hard to hold back when safety was so close and the TARDIS was being a complete _moron_ about it. "_Now_."

"It's not that I wouldn't like to. You've been quite entertaining as far as companions go. Really, I'm quite fond-" my icy glare stopped him quite suddenly. "Yes. Well, I've been a bit…my systems have been compromised."

Nope. That's not what I wanted to hear. Not in the least. "Then _uncompromise_ them. You're a sentient time traveling spaceship. I'm sure you can figure something out-"

"Don't bother with the interface. I've disabled it. Needed to focus all of the energy on the computers themselves." Ailla's toneless voice broke through my rant and I felt my blood chill. For a moment it was the fear of being caught, and then it dawned on me that she didn't care, because she had preemptively stopped it.

"Yes. There is that." The voice interface scowled over his shoulder but Ailla hadn't even bothered to look up. So completely unconcerned by our activities that we didn't even warrant more than a mild warning. What a horrible _witch_. And something that rhymes with 'witch'. And several other inappropriate words most commonly used by sailors. If there was ever a time for me to develop superpowers to kick her overconfident ass, now was it.

…

Well. So maybe that's not going to pan out.

"So you're useless." I glared up at him. Silly to blame the ship, but it was the most convenient at the moment.

"Oi, no need for that-"

"Fitzgerald?" My head snapped up so fast I was surprised my spine didn't shatter. The Professor stood in the open doorway, but it shut behind him as he stepped inside. He frowned at me. "What are you doing here?"

"_Me_?" That was the question he was asking? I was tied to a chair in a chamber filled with Ailla and her pack of oversized laptops and he wanted to know why I was just hanging out? "Are you kidding me? Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs over here is-"

"Professor," Ailla had heard him and was walking back toward us. If I was lucky, maybe he could talk enough sense into her to get me out of this chair. If I was really lucky, he'd just clobber the hell out of her and we could make a run for it. "You're late."

_What_? What did she just say? He was _expected_? Seriously? She had invited him to the crazy party? And he wasn't acting remotely surprised to be here. Or even concerned.

"Yes, I got a bit…" His eyes looked me over briefly before giving Ailla his full attention. "Sidetracked. I didn't realize you'd have company." So it was no big deal that I was being held hostage. Super.

"Sorry, I meant to explain. The computers themselves wouldn't be enough. I can reroute the energy field long enough to make it last, but just barely. Is this a problem?" There was a hint of threat in her voice.

"You're god damn _right_ it's a problem." I shouted at her. "Professor, she's going to bring those psychopaths back and then she's going to _kill_ me." I strained against the chair as he finally looked at me again. His cool eyes met mine, and then looked away. Dismissive.

"Not particularly. You don't worry that the Doctor will protest? You know how sentimental he gets about these things."

It felt like I had been kicked, several times. Breathing like a fish in concrete. Struggling to understand just what the _fuck_ was going on. What he had said to me, before. He couldn't have just been…Of course he could. He was a _psychopath_. That's what they were good at. They lied and manipulated to get just what they wanted. They didn't feel things like guilt or remorse because they didn't feel anything at all. That's why he was able to lead that pack of bloodthirsty killing machines. That's exactly what he was. Ailla glanced my way briefly. It was like I was a pesky mosquito. They were only hesitating to squash me because it might stain the wallpaper.

"Of course he will. But it'll be too late by then." Too late because I'd be dead and unable to appreciate the look of fury on the Doctor's face when he realized what they'd done to me. Unable to appreciate his threats of throwing them out into space. Of course, those would be empty promises. They would have _saved_ Gallifrey, something he had wanted so desperately to do. What was one mouthy little human compared to billions of lives? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He'd be angry for a while, sure. Donna would be too. Actually, Donna might hold a solid grudge on my behalf. But none of it would matter, because I'd be dead.

This sucks.

"Well then, it's not a problem." The Professor shrugged and smiled sideways at Ailla. My insides crumbled to dust and ash. Time lords were just the worst. The fucking worst. "Let's get to work."


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N: Look! Less than six years for an update! It's a miracle!**

* * *

They were bastards. The lot of them. Not just these two, but time lords in general. No, _people_ in general. Any kind of sentient being that I could direct my anger at right now. All of the above. Yes. Everyone, and everything, was a bastard.

But I was absolutely _not_ freaking out right now. Cool and collected. Definitely not thinking about how Jack had warned me. His words weren't running through my mind over and over. Nope. Not kicking myself because of _course_ the Professor betrayed me. He was a _known_ bastard. He was a known _evil _bastard. Yet I'd still managed to delude myself into thinking there was something there.

Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid_.

Okay, keep it together. I was going to turn into some emotional wreck here in a minute if I wasn't careful. That definitely wouldn't help. Didn't get the feeling that either the Professor or Ailla were the types to give in to a sniveling, sobbing, red-faced, weepy girl. Especially since I was an ugly crier. Really, just awful, mouth hanging open, snot running-

It was bad. That's what I'm trying to get at.

But they weren't going to find that out, because I was holding this shit together. I took a deep breath and the voice interface turned. That familiar look of concern that the Doctor was constantly giving me was etched deep onto his face. I hated that there was an audience to my exceptionally humiliating demise, but at the same time, it was probably the only reason I _was_ still holding it together. Gotta save face. Don't worry, you're about to die, but you don't want to look like an idiot doing it, so maintain. Atta girl.

It was also nice to know that at least one person in the room was in my corner. Well. One space ship. Or digital representation of a space ship. Something.

"I could go recite pi to them if you'd like. Not sure it'll slow them down much, but it _is_ an option." He shrugged. I think the voice interface was trying to cheer me up. That was…actually kind of depressing all on its own.

"Don't bother." I cleared my throat, preparing my extra obnoxious voice to channel all of my panic and misery into. "The _assholes_ probably wouldn't even notice. Because they're _assholes_. _Assholes_ that kill people." Ailla flinched at my announcement, but the Professor didn't even move from his hunched over position above the computer.

That hadn't been my best effort. I'd have to up my name-calling game. I blame the lack of variety. "People who were _supposed_ to be their friends. I'm talking to you jackass!" Even at full volume, I was about as distracting to the Professor as a rock.

"Don't worry," the voice interface said with a strained smile as he tried to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Which sort of just floated there instead of actually touching me. Not creepy at all. "My thief will be along shortly. He always is."

That was a nice idea, the whole 'being rescued by the plucky hero' bit. But then, that's what I thought would happen when the Professor had shown up and…well, he shit all over that.

"I won't hold my breath." If the Doctor had failed to notice the Professor was missing the whole time he'd been busy with our…dalliance, I was pretty sure he'd _never_ notice. In fact, he was probably chatting away to himself about the fascinating world of protons or neutrons, or whatever the hell he was always rambling about, convinced the Professor was there listening. He had a tendency to do that sort of thing.

So waiting was out. Need a plan B. One that I'm capable of executing from my chair.

…

Okay, there was nothing I could do at this distance. Other than be loud. Neither of them had seemed too impressed with that. However, my feet weren't tied down. With a little experimenting, I found I could scoot around, two inches at a time. Checking to make sure the hushed grating across the floor hadn't alerted anyone, I began the _incredibly_ slow process of spinning my chair.

As they worked, the gentle hum of the room grew louder, which wasn't particularly helping my nerves. After all, louder noise just means death is coming sooner, right? Confident that I was plenty stealthy, I started making my way toward the computers. My end game? Kicking the Professor square in the balls.

Unfortunately, he was further down the line than Ailla, so I'd have to settle with brutalizing her shins. But it was a plan. By the time I'd sidled up to the first computer, I was exhausted. One, because I wasn't used to carting my ass, and a huge god damn chair, on the power of my calves alone. And two, whatever they were doing in this room, it was exhausting. I could feel it turning my muscles to mush, and ratcheting my headache up to migraine territory. Everything in me wanted to just lay in the chair and let them get on with it. Only my spite for this room…and every living thing in the universe, kept me going. But when I started to move again, I saw the voice interface shaking his head quickly and making frantic motions with his hands.

Busted. Time to ready my legs for some serious kicking. But when I looked around, no one had spotted me. He was still flapping his arms around though, sort of making a smashing gesture to my right…Oh.

The _computer_. He wanted me to smash the computer.

Damn.

That was actually a good idea.

My plan was just based on annoyance; this one had a real possibility of _helping_. I scooted back to give my legs room to get up in the air, and then I started to flail, _violently_. As the first of many satisfying crunches landed on the panel, I could see Ailla rushing at me. I continued to kick even as she threw the chair back, causing me to fall backwards. That wasn't particularly comfortable, but me landing a few solid kicks on Ailla when she tried to catch me made up for my misery.

"Stars Fitz, this isn't a game!" She shouted as she pulled the chair back up, possibly to reduce the effectiveness of my deadly blows. _Feel_ the kick, _be_ the kick. I am one with the kick.

"Oh, so you were _serious_ about killing me? Damn, guess I should start acting accordingly then." I rose my leg up again but she drove her fist into the top of my knee so hard it dropped like a lead weight. Sweet baby _jesus_ that hurt. No longer channeling inner zen with the kicking. Sitting here calmly. That's what we're zenning right now. At least until I could stop making the 'ow' face.

"This isn't about _you _Fitz. This is about multiple species, an entire planet that you're saving. You'll be revered as a _god_ Fitz. Your sacrifice will make you immortal amongst the time lords, can't you see how much greater that will be than living out your tiny insignificant life until you decay and _die_?"

"How about I stick my insignificant foot up your ass and I think about it?" It was nice to see that Ailla's fury was still buried somewhere beneath all this preachy bullshit she was trying to feed me. Her fist closed at her hip and I was pretty sure she was going to pop me right in the mouth but the Professor intervened.

"Ailla, there's no time." He snapped. Her eyes darted to his and back to me, seriously contemplating if it was worth losing her planet just to wipe the smug grin off my face. It was nice to finally have that effect on someone else. "I've completed the precipital alignment within the Matrix. You still need to ensure the coordinates are correct. There can be _no_ mistakes." His tone implied that very _very_ bad things would happen if there _were_ any mistakes. You know, things worse than me dying. "I'll speak with her." He added in a calmer tone.

"Have to get your boyfriend to fight your battles for you? That's fine, I wouldn't want to have to mess up that pretty face of yours." I sneered at her and she lunged forward just as the Professor stepped between us.

"Finish this, or it will have been for _nothing_." He was busy staring her down with that intense angry gaze he did, but I was also making faces at her behind his back, so she was mildly conflicted. Unfortunately, the Professor decided for us, and he began to drag my chair back to its original position where the voice interface was looking sufficiently angry on my behalf. "You are acting like a _child_." The Professor said as he slammed my chair down, noting that I had continued to make rude faces at Ailla, even as she went back to work.

"Well, I've just been informed that I'm tiny and insignificant, especially when compared to the great and mighty time lords. So if you actually think about it, according to you, this is age appropriate." He didn't seem to appreciate my logic, which I thought was totally sound. He turned his attention to the voice interface that was hovering nearby, looking menacing despite the fact that he could do nothing.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" The Professor shot him a look.

"Yes, I imagine so. But as you've taken the liberty of severely compromising my capabilities, I've decided my remaining contribution could be making you miserable." He seemed quite satisfied with that, although I wasn't sure how well that would work since loud noises didn't seem to do much, and as far as I could tell, that was all he was good for. Other than, you know, moral support. Hooray.

"Might I suggest the life support, the library, or perhaps the secondary archived alert system," the Professor's jaw tightened as he spoke, apparently the voice interface _was_ good at annoying. Go team "don't get Fitz killed"! Give him hell. "Or I could simply _delete_ you." He said, with a hint of a smile.

"If you think you can _threaten_ me little man-" Actually, I was a little afraid of the voice interface just then. The full fury of the Doctor, combined with the knowledge that it was _actually_ a sentient space ship, had an incredibly intimidating effect. One that seemed lost on the Professor. "Hold on, did you say secondary archived…" The rage melted away to be replaced with confusion. He looked to me and opened his mouth, then shut it again. And then he vanished.

I sat up, what little of my good mood that had remained from the minor computer smashing victory, was now gone.

"Did you just _delete_ the voice interface?" It sounded silly to get all worked up about a computer program, but dammit, that computer program had been my friend. Possibly, my _only_ friend.

"Reset would probably be a better word for it," the Professor shrugged. "Now are you going to behave yourself, or are we going to need to find some better restraints?"

"Why don't you untie me and just let me get it out of my system. I'm sure you'll be fine." He would be too, if fine was actually code for having a chair jammed so far up your ass you cough splinters. Totally _fine_.

"Don't be so dramatic. I am sorry Fitzgerald, but this is-"

"Save it. If you need to kill me to restart some intergalactic space battle with your girlfriend, one that the _Doctor_ gave up his own people to stop, go for it. But you don't get to feel any better about it because you 'apologized'. Not for one second. So spare me your 'sorry' fucker." To say I felt betrayed was a bit of an understatement.

"Don't be so naive," he shook his head, tightening his grip against my wrist. As he leaned forward, something flashed in his vest pocket, the tip of a screwdriver. My mind started to race as he continued with his stupid speech. "This isn't about a _war_, or your _life_. This is so much _bigger_. The time lords themselves are so much bigger. You think your precious Doctor is such a hero, can you imagine thousands of Doctor's?"

"How many people are going to die in this war you're starting? You know, _not_ including me." His jaw tightened as he shot me a dark look.

"Not more than were lost when the Doctor condemned Gallifrey." Alright, he may have had a point there. Did that make them right? Was I the bad guy here? It really didn't seem like it, but then bad guys always seem to think they're in the right.

"But he did that for a reason. If you lose, it's not just the time lords that are affected. It's everywhere." Yeah. That made sense. Sure, I wasn't the bad guy, _they_ were the bad guy. I was…mostly convinced.

"That's not going to happen." He said without any doubt. This guy had entirely too much confidence.

"Why, because you're going to storm in there with your band of psycho killers?" His eyes met mine, looking dangerous. Perfect. My fingers stretched out, just barely reaching the tip of the screwdriver. If I squirmed any further, he was going to notice. Dammit.

"Something like that."

"Well it's not going to work, you want to know why?"

"Oh please, _enlighten_ me."

"Because you're a sickness. Everything you touch goes to hell. You're a bastard and you'll always be a bastard. And bastards _lose_." For a moment, he actually looked as though some of that had hit home. And then his face was a mask again, devoid of anything but scorn.

"Come now," he smirked, raising one hand to hold my chin. My skin was crawling, but my wrist was also free to reach that extra inch I needed to grab the screwdriver. "It wasn't _all_ that bad, was it? I seem to recall us having a rather good time."

"Yeah well, that was a mistake. I've always had shit taste in guys. Probably should have learned my lesson last time."

"Last time…" his hand dropped as he searched my eyes. I would have gotten some joy out of him looking so confused, except I couldn't raise my wrist enough to get the god damn screwdriver out of his pocket. And as I didn't have any other plan, this was really my last shot.

"You _use_ people. You did it before, and you're doing it now. That's just how you are. I was wrong to think you were different. But I'm not wrong for this." I reared back as far as the chair would allow and slammed my forehead into his nose with a satisfying crunch. He stumbled back and the screwdriver slipped out from his pocket. Success! Now, if I can just manage not to drop it like a dumbass, it'll be a Christmas miracle. Taking that extra moment to be sure of my grip, I slipped it between my wrist and the armrest.

That's when everything exploded.

I don't know if you know this, but head butting _hurts_. Not just a little, but like. A _lot_. I felt like I had just cleaved my head against an ax, which didn't help since I had already had a tremendous headache. At this point, killing me would have probably been a kindness.

I blinked furiously to keep my eyes from watering. No more head butting. That was definitely on my list. The blood that started to ooze, and then drip from the Professor's nose, offered me some satisfaction. So did the look of utter disbelief on his face. That smug grin of his probably wasn't coming back for a while. He reached up and frowned as he found his fingers coated in red.

"You're absurd." He said, looking at me again. Like it was such a _shocker_ that I wanted to break his nose. Hell, I'd been meaning to do that for _months._

"Koschei?" Ailla's voice was fraught with concern and I saw her walk toward us.

"It's fine," he said facing her. Her eyes widened as she saw the blood spilling down his chin.

"Oh my- Are you hurt?" Before she could come any further, he spun around, the back of his hand flying at my face. I was too startled to react, but all I felt was air as his hand whistled by. Did he miss? Did that stupid asshole miss when I was tied down to a _chair_? What a dumb-

No. He couldn't have, because now the chair was tipping, falling backward. Was this like the head butting where I didn't immediately feel the pain? It couldn't be, because I had felt _nothing_. Did he hit me so hard my face straight up broke? Am I having a seizure? I didn't have much time to ponder because then the back of my chair hit the floor and knocked the wind out of me. And hurt.

"Koschei, don't…" Ailla sounded like she felt bad. Like maybe she didn't really want to _hurt_ me. Just make me dead. Great. She wasn't getting any extra credit for that.

"She won't be disrupting us anymore." He said over his shoulder. "Have you finished?" I could just see Ailla from where I was parked like a turtle. She shook her head. "Then get back to work." He snapped. She flinched at his voice and hesitated only a moment before turning back to her computer. At least he wasn't coddling her any more than he was me, that was something. As I regained the ability to breathe, I noticed my arms were hanging slack in the leather straps. My heart leapt in my chest. Finally, a lucky break. First a weapon, and now _freedom_. It was like my whole lifetime of shitty luck was finally paying me back all at once. The Professor hunched over me and I snapped to attention, trying to hold my arms as rigid as possible. Praying to every god I'd ever heard of, and Beyonce, that he hadn't noticed how they had been dangling a moment before.

"Back for another?" I grinned up at him. Of course, not only was I not at an angle where I could make good on that threat. My skull wasn't even remotely up for it.

"Don't do anything foolish." He said in a low voice.

"Like what?" He didn't know that I'd gotten his screwdriver, did he? Oh Christ, did he notice? Shit shit shit. He so noticed. Doomed. _Doomed._

No, stop being crazy. He can't kill you twice. He'd just take it back if he'd seen it. _Don't_ panic. Hold your shit together. Just put up with his little rant. You did just kick his ass. He just wants to puff out his feathers and prove he's still the prettiest peacock in the land.

"Listen to me," he growled, grabbing one of my arms again and squeezing. Shit. _Shit_. He knew. "Don't do _anything_ until the Doctor arrives."

I blinked, trying to match the words with the angry face that was looming above me. Nope. Didn't make sense. Maybe he had hit me so hard that my brain just wasn't properly functioning any more. Jesus. Did I just have a stroke? Is this because I smoked that one time? Twice? Okay, more than twice. Ten times. Dammit.

"Wait." He said in a strained voice. "_Please_." He said the last part so quietly I wasn't sure I'd really heard it. Well, I wasn't sure I'd heard _any_ of it, because it sounded like I was imagining things. Was the Professor _helping_ me? No. That was ridiculous. He was helping _kill_ me. That was the plan. They had told me that. That was definitely what was happening.

My eyes trailed down to the leather straps that had held my wrists so tightly to the chair. They hadn't just stretched out, someone had unfastened and refastened them so I could get out of them.

"Do you understand?" He asked in a vicious voice while he gripped my chin, forcing me to look up. His face was the image of pure fury, and yet his cool blue eyes held some desperation in them. "Do you _understand_?" He shook me once. I really really _didn't_. But I nodded anyway. "Good." He stood up, emotionless once again.

"Professor, are you-"

"She won't disrupt us again." He said curtly. I liked that she was back to calling him the Professor, because that meant she was probably afraid of him again. That brought me happiness because I was a twisted individual. Was I afraid of him? That was…well…I had no idea.

"Well it shouldn't matter. It's ready." Definitely afraid of dying, that much was clear as my blood chilled at her announcement. This was it, time to die. Wasn't that a _cheering_ thought. But I had a weapon now, and I could escape. So what was I waiting for?

…

Really? All it took was him saying '_please'_ and suddenly I'm more than happy to listen? _Really_? Jabbering nonsense about the Doctor making an appearance sounded a lot more like what I _hoped_ would happen, and a lot less like something that would _actually_ happen. Why would he suddenly show up? But why would the Professor imply he would? What the _hell_ was going on?

It occurred to me that my plan was to sort of shoot in their general direction and make a run for it. Would the door open for me if I did that? Probably not. And then what? Wait until Ailla shot me badly enough that I couldn't run away any more? I didn't trust him, and I sure as hell wasn't happy with him. But I would wait. Mostly because I hoped his plan, whatever it was, was better than mine.

"Fitz, I truly am sorry-" Ailla said as she turned toward the computer.

"No you're not." I chimed in a sing-songy voice, but it didn't do much. She sighed before continuing on.

"But this is going to hurt."

I had only just registered the words when the pain ripped through me so hard that I forgot how to breathe. It started in my chest and radiated out, pulse after pulse of hot knives cutting through skin and bone. And then suddenly it was gone. The memory of it still echoed through me as a white bolt of light shot out from the pedestal where the pocket watch had been and smashed into the wall. The wall rippled and then began to tear open, the room filled with a roaring wind as the portal was opened.

The beam vanished and I let out a groan, finally having the breath to verbalize how fucking painful that had been. And anyway, shouldn't I be dead? I mean, not that I was actually complaining, but I thought that was the whole _point_. I blinked slowly, registering that there was now light streaming _out_ from the wall. Was this it? The end? Was it _the_ bright light? Should I get up and walk toward it? That seemed like entirely too much effort just then and everything hurt so badly that I decided if death was coming for me, he could help a girl out, get off his ass, and bring his life ending light over here. But when my eyes adjusted, I realized it wasn't _really_ a light. It was a familiar landscape that I was seeing through the portal. The radiant orange and reds of Gallifrey, coupled with the smell of burning that billowed in through the open doorway between ship and war torn planet.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head and wanting to crawl as far away from the light as possible. "Not there."


	23. Chapter 22

"It's Gallifrey," Ailla said as she stepped back from the computer, awe in her voice as she looked out over the rippling portal. The tiniest sliver of sense was all that kept me in the chair. If anything moved out there, a leaf, a blade of grass, shit, if the _wind_ looked at me wrong, you can be damn sure I was running. She stepped forward, her hand outstretched.

"Don't-" my panic had overwhelmed the part of my brain that remembered Ailla was a son of a bitch who totally deserved whatever was waiting for her out there. Idiot brain. "Don't go out there." I finished lamely.

"That's my home." She sounded _happy_ to see it. Boy was she about to be disappointed.

"It's _really_ not." She spared me a dark look. "Not anymore." Really, if anyone was going to get devoured by undead zombies, I nominate her. And then the Professor was a close second. Why was I _insisting_ on talking her out of this?

"What do you know about it?"

"I've been there. Sort of. It's…it's not pretty."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed, turning back to the portal. "There's no way you could have been there."

"Yeah, sorry. You got me. This is just part of my brilliant scheme to foil your plans. You're too damn crafty for me." Fear had given way to irritation pretty fast, maybe even _record_ fast. I should be keeping track. "I _have_ been there, and it was _shit_. Everything you remember is broken. It's not like what you saw with me. It's a war zone where everyone _lost_. It's just full of more time lords with a hankering for murder." It seemed to be a running theme with their kind, which was all kinds of unsettling.

"You're lying." She snapped, but there was a hint of doubt as she looked through the portal. Whatever she had been expecting to be waiting for her beyond the window to Gallifrey, clearly wasn't there. Boiling hot air rolled into the cool room, that along with the smell of ash and burning.

"She is not." The Professor said quietly. I looked up, surprised to hear him weighing in at all, but he was staring at me in a peculiar way. As soon as Ailla turned, the calm exterior reappeared and I wasn't sure I had seen it at all.

"What?" Now you could hear the fear in her voice.

"She used to have nightmares. Of Gallifrey. It _was_ burning." He spoke in that cold detached tone as he turned his gaze from me to Ailla. "She may be wrong about Gallifrey, but she is not intentionally misleading you."

"Well it doesn't matter, I'm still-" the metal walls of the room shrieked in protest as the portal shrank. It didn't just shrink though, I felt like I had been pulled forward. Hell, everything had been pulled forward. What the _hell_ was going on. "What's wrong?" Ailla's voice wasn't just slightly uneven now, she was _actually_ worried. Good, because a room eating portal was on my list of things to flip out about, at least we were on the same page there.

Gallifrey suddenly flickered, and then vanished all together, leaving only a star filled black expanse through the hole in the wall. But then it reappeared. And the room made a tearing sound as it was devoured slowly by the portal.

"What did you _do_?" She shouted. I looked away from the portal and realized that she was talking to _me_.

"What do you think I did?" The question was only made slightly more ridiculous by the fact that I was still laying on the floor, and as far as she knew, strapped to a chair. "Used my mind powers to fuck up your day?" Who knows, maybe my superpowers finally _did_ pan out. I sort of expected to _realize_ it when it happened, but what was important, was that Ailla's plans were getting screwed up. Her jaw tightened as she stared at me, and then she strode forward, her eyes intent on murder.

Whoops.

"Did you remember to account for the dark particle acceleration?" The Professor's voice cut her just short of reaching me.

"Of course I did," she hardly spared him a glance. Well, that was a short-lived reprieve. She knelt next to me and grabbed a handful of my shirt. "Now _answer_ me, what did you _do_?" She shook me hard enough that my skull cracked against the back of the chair and Jesus that didn't feel good.

"Ailla." The Professor barked from behind her. I was a little too rattled to give a snappy remark so I just kind of made an "ugh" noise. Staring up into the abyss of desperation in Ailla's face made me strongly suspect that it didn't matter if I _had_ done it or not. She reached for her hip, and even in my slightly dazed state, I immediately recognized the cool sting of metal against my temple.

"Change it back. Right. _Now._" She whispered. Nervous laughter bubbled up in my chest, I stuffed it down, but not enough to stop the crazed grin from appearing on my face. She wasn't going to be able to tell the difference between hysterical panicked Fitz and smug with victory Fitz. The fact that the latter didn't actually exist was something she might have known if she had stuck around a little longer.

Holy shit I am _actually_ going to die this time. It was impressive how having a gun pointed at my head gave me all kinds of clarity. And some fantastic memory. Like the exact pattern of brain spatter that had occurred after I'd squeezed the trigger on the Unwritten a few days prior. That was going to be _me_. Possibly with less gray matter, but still.

"Enough." The Professor was directly behind her now, but not stupid enough to try and wrestle the gun from her. "It was me." Ailla's eyes unfocused above me, slowly processing what she had heard.

"What did you say?" her voice was a harsh whisper, and just as scary as it had been a moment before. She turned to him, but the gun was still digging into my temple. My hands were sweating, but I still had a tight grip on the screwdriver. Of course, I wouldn't be able to use it fast enough to make a difference at this point, but it was a miracle I still remembered that I had it.

"I've compromised the machines. They've overheated and feeding the power back into the source. Since they're unable to stabilize, the ship is trying to expel the source before it explodes." He still spoke dispassionately, but every muscle in his body was wound tight like a spring. There wasn't any doubt in my mind that if she pulled the trigger he would be tearing her to pieces a second later. That was touching, aside from the fact that having the Professor on my side wouldn't really make up for the bullet shaped hole that would be in my skull.

"I don't understand," she frowned, finally releasing my shirt so my head dropped painfully against the chair again. I should work on that neck strength. The gun was still aimed at me, but she was standing now, facing the Professor. "_You_ said to put the circuits into the ships power, _not_ the source."

"Yes. I said that."

"Well why would you…if you knew…" she paused, looking back over her shoulder to make sure I hadn't gone anywhere. Damn, probably _would_ have been a good idea to go somewhere when she had been distracted. Oops. She returned her gaze to the Professor and I started to very subtly squirm out of my constraints. "Why? Why would you throw everything away? Our people? Our _world_? All of it. Everything. Stars above, _why_ Koschei?"

"You know as well as I do that the odds of us succeeding in opening both gates simultaneously were highly unlikely. Harnessing the Unwritten to take on the Dalek's as well would have been far beyond our capabili-"

"Was it her?" Ailla pointed in my direction, reminding me that she had a deadly weapon still aimed in my face. I froze. As a point of interest, I had _not_ actually forgotten. Not by a long shot. The Professor's jaw stiffened.

"Ailla-"

"Was it?" I resisted the urge to laugh, it wasn't all that hard to do since I wasn't remotely in the mood for laughing. But if she thought someone, especially _me _of all people, could have _any_ effect on what the Professor did or did not do, she had another thing coming.

"Yes." He said in a clipped tone.

Okay, a couple of things. No. It couldn't have been. This was just another one of his bullshit lies. I wasn't falling for it. Not again. And again. Just. _No_. Not even if there was a hint of that desperation in his eyes that I had seen in the medical bay. Nope. Not buying it.

Maybe buying it a little.

But also, now is probably _not_ the best time to be admitting that. You know. With a _gun_ pointed at my head.

"Of course." She said with a bitter smile and I watched her finger tighten on the trigger. I couldn't move, it was like I was glued to the chair. Don't be afraid. It'll be over before I get a chance to remember how much dying sucks.

The Professor was already diving at her, I wish I had time to call him an idiot, because that's how I would willingly spend my last few seconds. But then I realized she was already turning. She wasn't going to shoot me, she was going to shoot _him_. I tried to call out a warning, but it sort of came out as "Likot!" and he had already slammed into her, sending them both over my shoulder out of view. The room screeched again and I might have heard the crack of the firearm, but things were happening too fast as I was trying to squirm my way out of the chair. My legs flailed in the air as I did the least coordinated backward somersault ever to get my legs beneath me again.

The Professor had rolled further away and Ailla was staring dazed at the ground. The pistol had skittered out of her hands and she dove for it.

"Stop!" I shouted, bringing the laser screwdriver up. I didn't look very intimidating on my hands and knees, but I tried to put what vehemence I could in my glare to reassure her that I _was_ dangerous. Ailla looked up, startled to see that I was suddenly out of the chair.

"Fitzgerald, leave it- Where did you get _that_?" The Professor shot a deadly look my way, but he didn't get up so there wasn't much he could do as I stood, keeping the screwdriver leveled at Ailla. Her confusion turned to amusement, which was…well, it was frankly a little unsettling.

"Suppose that's the Professor's screwdriver?" Ailla asked with a pitying smile. She didn't wait for an answer. "He's probably not bothered to tell you how protective he is of his toys. Shame about that." She went for the pistol again and I could feel my resolve starting to shrivel. I might _actually_ have to shoot her. What an asshole. God I really didn't want to do this. Even if she was a bastard. And she definitely was.

"Ailla-" my voice wavered and it was obvious to both of us that I didn't have the heart to stop her. Which is when she turned to the Professor to finish the job she had started. But I still had business to settle with him, so that meant it was important that he _not_ die. Orange light ripped a jagged line through the air, striking Ailla in the shoulder as she screamed and flew forward. There was a horrible long moment where I wasn't sure she was breathing, but then I saw her move and I regained feeling in my legs enough to keep from falling over. It was hard to tell if the trembling was from relief, or from being in this room for so long.

Ailla groaned as she rolled over slowly, the confusion having settled back on her face again. "You can't have…" she muttered.

"I can. I _did_. Now lose the gun before I aim this at something you want to keep." It was still held loosely in her grip. She didn't move to aim it at me, but she also didn't let it go.

"The…isomorphic controls…" She looked between me and the Professor, who looked equally surprised for whatever reason. "She can't-"

"Alright. But I did. Moving _on_." I marched forward, determined to look like I wasn't on the last of my reserves as I kicked the gun away from Ailla's outstretched hand. The room shook and made more horrible crunching noises which reminded me that I may have only _temporarily_ avoided death and maybe I should work on making it a more permanent thing. "Now, how do you turn this thing _off_?" I said as I walked over to the closest console. It could have been in Russian and I would have had better luck figuring out what to do with it. Hell, maybe it _was_ in Russian. What did I know? All that I could tell, was there wasn't a friendly 'off' button anywhere handy. Because of course there wasn't. "Anyone?"

"You don't." Ailla glared at me balefully from where she was still crouched on the ground.

"Super. Thanks for the input." I turned to the Professor who was slowly making his way to his feet. Finally, what a lazy ass. "How do I turn it off?"

He blinked slowly, finally focusing on my face. "You don't."

"Jesus Christ. You guys are both _such_ a fucking pain in my ass-"

"But I can slow it down," he interrupted as he shuffled over. "Watch her." He nodded as he came up behind me.

"Oh, are we on the same side now?" I snapped. Possibly being a little rude. It was strange that he didn't offer a snide comment in return. Instead, he started to press buttons in what I would have called a random order, but he looked like he knew what he was doing. "Well…but, shouldn't we be leaving instead of slowing things down?" That did seem logical, well, to _me_ anyway. Now that we've gotten past the whole 'Ailla trying to kill us' bit.

"We _could_. But then the ship will explode." He said it so causally that I nearly missed it.

"I'm sorry, _what_? Why the _hell_ is the ship going to explode? How could that- You're _shot_…" the annoyance melted out of my voice when I turned back and realized there was a reason he had taken so long to get off the ground. There was a hole in the back of his jacket, and a large stain that I suspected _wasn't_ raspberry jelly.

"I noticed." He muttered, still busy with whatever the hell he was doing. You know, too cool to acknowledge that Jesus Christ being shot _hurts_.

"Well. Fine. Super. You'll just…slowly bleed to death here, the ship is going to explode. I'm going to have some kind of a stroke. Glad we've got everything sorted."

He did turn toward me then, probably to give me a stern telling off about my attitude, but he flinched as he moved, twisting in a way that reminded him he had a hole through his torso. He grasped for the console and, despite still being furious with him, I caught his arm, keeping him from collapsing entirely.

"Fitzgerald," he said as he stood slowly. "You need to _leave_. I can maintain the room from here, but it will continue to feed off you if you remain."

"I'm not going without you," there may have been other reasons that I didn't want to leave him, but I made sure he knew the most prevalent one right now was so that I could just kick his ass later. "_Both_ of you." I shot a look over my shoulder at Ailla.

"Yes, take her with you." He nodded quickly. "The Doctor will take care of it." Apparently that was all of an explanation I was going to get from him, because he turned back to the console. Fine. He could just rot here. I turned and made it a full two-steps on fury alone. But then I stopped.

I wanted to go, I really _really_ did. My eyes kept unconsciously sliding toward the portal that continued to shrink and flit between Gallifrey and just a _terrifying_ amount of empty space. It was smaller, but not so small that a zombified hippo couldn't waddle through. That was reason enough to make a run for it. I made it one more step toward Ailla before giving a resigned sigh and turning around. My legs ached with the effort of moving at all, but I walked back to the Professor.

"Hey," I said, laying my hand on his arm. Partly to get his attention, and partly because those three steps felt like a marathon. His face was drawn as he turned, but he mustered up a scowl for me anyway. As he opened his mouth for a scolding, I shook my head. "No. I really don't have the energy for it. Just listen. You've been a real shithole, and I'm _unbelievably_ furious about that. Really. Just," one of my hands unconsciously started to strangle the air. "Anyway. But I still…I can't leave you behind to get exploded, or eaten by dead people, or…or bleed to death. Okay?" And if he needed me to explain _why_ I couldn't let that happen, then I really was going to strangle him. Just as soon as I had the energy for it.

His face softened, only slightly, and he swallowed before answering. "Fitzgerald. I will be fine. _You _will not."

That was incredibly unfair. Acting like he cared just to get what he wanted. That was some bull-

"Yes, well, I think if my ship were about to blow up, I would _know_ about it." The Doctor's voice interrupted us, walking in through a recently opened door while looking rather annoyed with Jack who was right behind him.

"Doctor, there were _three_ separate alarms going off in the control room."

"Yes, well, those were _archived_ alarms. Hardly worth noticing. Besides, I had music playing." They had yet to acknowledge that we were in the room.

"Doctor, I could hear it clear from the library. And I was _underwater_." Jack finally looked up, aware that the hallway they had been marching down had changed.

"Don't give me that look. You can't honestly expect me to play Rossaplaction music _quietly-_" The Doctor too became aware of his surroundings and looked around.

"About bloody time," the Professor muttered.

"Hello," the Doctor gave a strained smile. "Would anyone care to explain just what precisely is going on?" He raised an eyebrow, but no one was in any rush to speak. "Such as why every retrograded alarm on this ship has suddenly gone off? Or perhaps- Are you _bleeding_?" He squinted in the direction of the Professor. He _may_ have been slightly more blood soaked than the rest of us. What, with the gunshot wound, and the head butting. "Honestly, I leave you alone for _five_ minutes." He muttered, dragging a hand over his face. Sure, he was the put upon babysitter who was tired of dealing with our shenanigans. What a joke. If anything, _he_ was the catalyst for this insanity. He always was.

"Nobody move!" Ailla shouted. She was up and moving…and armed. Dammit. Wasn't I supposed to be watching her? Shit. Shit shit shit.

"My bad." I mumbled. I couldn't see the Professor, but I was pretty sure I could feel his eyes trying to set the back of my head on fire right about now.

"Ailla? What's wrong?" The Doctor started to walk toward her, but she jerked her arms in his direction, leveling the pistol at him.

"_Everything_ is wrong. Now stay where you are, or you get to find out first hand why the Professor is bleeding."

"I helped with that." I shrugged. Neither of them bothered looking in my direction, which was probably for the best.

"Listen, whatever he did to you, I can promise you, he _will_ pay for it." The Doctor shot the Professor a dark look. "If anything, it's my fault for believing he would change-"

"Shut. Up." Ailla's voice was deadly serious. I do believe she planned on shooting the Doctor. I raised the screwdriver, ready to fire again if I had to, but the Doctor, reading my thoughts, pointed a single finger in my direction and then locked eyes with me.

"Fitz, put that _bloody_ thing down before you hurt someone." It wasn't the tone that you argued with and I had dropped my arm before I really registered what I was doing. Damn, that _was_ a neat trick. "Now, Ailla. Perhaps you can explain just what he's gotten you involved in."

"He didn't do anything. _I_ did this. And I'm going to _finish_ it." She said determinedly. The room made another horrible shrieking noise as the ground bucked up beneath our feet to really drive her point home.

The Doctor looked confused, but only briefly. "What is it you plan on finishing?"

"Doctor, we don't have time. You need to get Fitzgerald out of here _immediately_. The vacillator is feeding power into the source, if you don't-"

"Still not going without you." I shot the Professor a dangerous look.

"Dammit Fitz," he scowled. When did he start using _that_ name? "We don't have-"

"She's not going _anywhere_." Ailla said, turning toward us. "Get away from the computer."

"What, will you _shoot_ me again?" He asked with a twisted smile, not moving from the console.

"I'll make sure it sticks this time."

"Professor, just do as she says." The Doctor's voice was quiet with a fury that was now entirely focused on Ailla. He didn't seem to be a fan of the gun. Or idle threats.

The Professor shook his head. "As soon as I release this, the room starts to deteriorate around us. It will take the entire ship with it."

"That's rubbish. The TARDIS would delete it before it became a threat-"

"Which would be fine, except for Fitzgerald and her _special_ skills." They both looked at me, like it was somehow _my_ fault.

"What the hell are you saying-"

"I said _no_!" Ailla shouted, angry that she didn't have all the attention in the room I guess. She moved so quickly I didn't realize what her plan was until her arm was around my throat like a vice. She dragged me a few steps back from the computer but I was pretty much a limp noodle. The suddenness of it knocked the screwdriver out of my hand so I didn't even have that going for me.

"Ailla, just wait. _Think _about what you're doing." The Doctor wasn't as angry now, really he just sounded desperate. "If you don't let her go, we all die here."

"I have to save them. I _can_ save them. I'm sorry it's come to this, but I have to do this. Professor, get away from the computer." She said, leveling the gun at his head.

"Save them?" The Doctor frowned. His eyes briefly pulled to the swirling portal in the wall as it flickered to Gallifrey. There was understanding in his eyes then. "Ailla, you can't-"

"_You_ destroyed them. But I can bring them back. This is the only way. Now get the hell away from the computer," she turned her attention back to the Professor, but he still stayed where he was. So she turned the gun toward me. "I don't need her anymore. You know that. Step. Away." I was still definitely afraid, guns would do that to you. But I realized, rather suddenly, that she _didn't_ want to do this. The Professor didn't _have_ to step away. She could just _shoot_ him, and he would drop, like a sack of bricks. Problem solved. But instead, she was threatening him, and me. It wasn't much to hold onto, but it was enough to keep me from dissolving into a puddle of ugly crying. So that was something.

The Professor worked his jaw slowly, clearly considering it for a moment. I shook my head faintly. "No." He said. Whether it was because of me, or the fact that he decided he just didn't care anymore, I had no idea.

"You don't think I've tried to save them, Ailla?" The Doctor stepped forward and she spun to face him. "You don't think I haven't come back countless times to try and repair all those lives I tore apart? Stars Ailla, I have. I've tried over and over again. But it's always the same. I can't save them, because they'll just tear themselves, and the universe, apart." His face was twisted with agony and I tried to swallow back the lump in my own throat. He wasn't just saying this to be convincing. He was finally admitting the truth, after wanting to deny it for so long. He looked like he'd rather light himself on fire than admit that his own people could never be recovered. "It's too late Ailla. They can't _be_ saved."

"You're…you're lying." She whispered, but she could see it in his face just as well as I could.

"You know I wouldn't." He sniffed as he took another step forward. "Ailla, look at what you're doing. You're going to kill Fitz? For what?"

"For our people," she said, but without much conviction. That was a nice start, but she still had a gun pointed at my head.

"Our people _did_ this. They did it to themselves. They made the Unwritten into the monsters that they are. They would have obliterated everything whole and good in the universe, simply so they could continue on. Ailla," he shook his head. "Our people are _broken_. They're not worth it."

She knew he was right, and I knew she had finally been convinced by the way air was allowed to flow through my windpipe unimpeded again. She tossed me to the side, which I hadn't expected at all, so I stumbled and then fell forward, nearly crashing into the computer. She darted forward and snatched the pocket watch from the pedestal where it was sitting. The Doctor lurched for her, but she was already running back for the increasingly unstable looking portal.

"I'm not giving up on them." She said, looking back over her shoulder once at us before she dove through the portal.

"Ailla don't do this!" The Doctor shouted, but it was too late. She was gone, and with one last creaking shudder, the portal itself snapped shut. The Doctor sagged as he stared at the wall that was continually crushing tighter into a lump of metal.

"Doctor," the Professor broke the silence. Well, the silence of _us_. The room itself still sounded like a trash compactor. I was also feeling freakishly lighter as I pushed myself to my feet, like I was floating in water. It was a welcome relief to my exhausted limbs and I decided not to question it.

"That'll be the life support failing." Jack chimed in helpfully. Great, so that was probably bad.

"Fitzgerald, you need to leave." The Professor said as I latched onto the computer, feeling like my legs were nearly ready to float away.

"And I'm not leaving you, no matter how far you shove that stick up your ass." We didn't really have the time to argue, and I really didn't have the energy, so I thought I'd just be blunt about it. "I feel like I've been pretty clear about that."

"You-" he looked very nearly like he was going to try and argue anyway. I readied my eye roll, but he decided against it. Instead, he reached out with one arm and grabbed the back of my head, pulling me against him for a surprisingly tender kiss. That had been…unexpected. It was over before I had the chance to appreciate it, because then he had pulled back. "I'm sorry Fitzgerald. But everything is going to be fine."

"Liar." _Nothing_ was going to be fine. Ailla had tried to kill me, actually, tried to kill _everyone_. And then vanished through a portal. I didn't even know if she'd _survive_ that. Whatever the hell _that_ was. Now the ship was imploding. Fine was _not_ the word I would have used.

Instead of replying, he put his hand against my chest and shoved. With my new lack of gravity, I went spinning backward without hitting the ground. "Doctor! Get her _out_!" The Professor shouted.

"Right." The Doctor nodded as he grabbed me from behind, turning me midair and sending me sailing for the wall. Crap. "Jack, the door!" The metal door slid open and suddenly I was in the brightly lit hall of the ship.

And just as suddenly, reconnecting with gravity. And the floor. _Hard_.

"Oh god…" everything hurt. Every muscle, bone, scrap of flesh. All of it. I pushed myself up from the floor slowly with the room spinning, but I managed to keep breakfast down. For now. With great effort, I got to my feet, and then stumble toward the door, reaching for button that would open it so I could get to the idiots I was planning on murdering.

But the button and door both vanished. I hadn't even blinked but it was just…_gone_.

"No way." I stared at the wall, trying to wait it out in the hopes that I'd just suffered a really unusual seizure. Nope. It was still just a wall. Just an empty wall where a door used to be. "_No._" I said a little more forcefully. "No. No. No. _No_." If I said it enough times, maybe the door would appear. I started to bash my fist against the wall, just to let it know I meant business. The door couldn't be gone. It just couldn't be. Because if _it_ was gone. Then the room was gone. And the people who were in the room…

_No_.


End file.
